


Billowing Embers

by WildChildALR



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Courtship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Romance, Young Fíli, Young Kíli, Young Thorin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-01-14 05:15:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 38,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1254193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildChildALR/pseuds/WildChildALR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the dwarves still resided in Erebor, Lithôniel, niece of Thranduil, meets and falls for Thorin. But when Smaug attacks and the dwarves are exiled, they are torn apart. Years later they re-meet while Thorin and Company are on their quest to reclaim their home. But can the embers of the love they once shared be strong enough to relight and banish the dark of past hatred and wrongs?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Meetings

I'm hoping my Elvish is correct, but if not, sorry.

I own nothing.

* * *

Thror, King Under The Mountain of the greatest Dwarven kingdom of Erebor, the mightiest and richest of all the Dwarf kingdoms in Middle Earth sat regally upon his throne as wave after wave of dignitaries stepped forth to pay tribute to him and his kin.

Nearly a month ago a great treasure had been found deep in the mines. Something the world had never seen before nor was ever likely to again. A great gem, white at first appearance but upon closer inspection it was as if tiny galaxies swirled within the stone. As soon as the gem was found it was brought before The King and Royal Family.

Thror declared it "The King's Jewel", deeming it a sign that his line was ordained to rule by Divine right. He even had a new throne carved that the jewel may forever reside above the ruler's head. But it soon became known as The Arkenstone; Heart of the Mountain.

News of the gem had spread quickly and soon kingdom's far and wide had flocked to see the stone and pay homage to The Line of Durin. And so, the dwarves had declared a celebration to be held that all may see the stone and share in the splendor of their find. On Thror's left stood his son Thrain, Crown Prince while on his right stood his beloved grandson Thorin. Those who wished to pledge allegiance to the King would pay it to his entire line, present and future kings.

As the group of Men from the city of Dale made their exit from The King's Hall, The Elves of Mirkwood strode forth gracefully. At the head of the convoy stood King Thranduil, clothed in silver robes, his long pale blond hair fell about his shoulders regally. Upon his head sat a large crown crafted to look like branches with leaves adorning it, his face was calm, contemplative and sincere, yet he carried a natural air of authority about him few could ever manage.

"Welcome Thranduil, King of the Woodland Realm. You honor my halls with your presence." Thror greeted.

"Êl síla erin lû e-govaned vîn." The Elven King inclined his head. "You are generous with your hospitality King Thror." Turning slightly he raised a hand motioning to a member of his group. Stepping forth a young Elleth gave a shy smile to the dwarves upon the dais. "May I present my niece, Lithôniel, daughter of my late sister, Solorfainiel, Princess of Mirkwood."

"Welcome Princess, may your stay here be a joyous one."

"Guren glassui" Lithôniel replied dipping a graceful bow, her eyes remaining upon the stone floor. "You honor me."

Letting out a chuckle Thror said, "I believe it is you who honor me. I hope you do not feel insulted when I tell you your niece is a rare beauty Thranduil. Don't you think so Thorin?"

Letting her eyes flick up Lithôniel nearly gaped at the dwarf on the right of the King. His dark hair was long and held a few braids like all those of his race, but his beard was short and neatly trimmed much like the Men she had seen about the mountain this morning. Many of her race thought Dwarves ugly and unkempt, and though she had never seen the mountain folk before, this Prince did not fit the mold she had been told of.

His stature was broad like all dwarves but he was tall, nearly to her shoulder if she gauged his height correctly. And even at a distance she could tell his eyes were deep blue, like the sapphire gems his kin held so dear.

After slowly letting his gaze rove over every inch of her Thorin replied, "She is indeed beautiful grandfather, much like a ruby in a gold setting."

Blushing slightly Lithôniel tried to banish the bloom, attempting to deem his flattery as politeness. But the continued gaze he sent did nothing to help it.

"I hope you shall be staying for the entirety of the celebrations." Thror spoke up looking to The Elven King. "It has been far too long since Elves have graced these halls with their presence and music."

Inclining his head once more Thranduil replied, "We shall remain as long as your hospitality allows."

"Splendid! Splendid. My servants shall see you and your party settled and refreshed from the road. Then tonight, we feast." Thror smiled.

Bowing the Elves made their exit as a large procession of Dwarves from the Iron Hills made their way into the room to pay their own respects.

* * *

"Shall I unpack your things my lady?" Verya, Lithôniel's attendant asked as the Princess' trunks were placed about the room she would be staying.

"Hmmm?" She replied absentmindedly. The young Elleth was currently standing out upon the balcony that was attached to the room. Apparently many of the Elves had been placed in such chambers in hopes they would not feel too trapped or claustrophobic during their stay.

Smiling the serving elf came out onto the balcony as well, "You have become homesick already?"

"No." Lithôniel shook her head tearing her eyes from the great forest in the distance. "I was merely contemplating the vast differences between our people and the dwarves."

"They are a strange race are they not? Imagine, living in this rock prison."

Looking about at the ornately carved stone about the room the Princess shook her head. "It may be different then what we are used to, but this is their home, and we would do well to respect it."

Casting her eyes down, Verya bobbed quickly apologizing, "Of course my lady. Would you like to rest or bathe before dinner?"

"I'm far too excited to sleep. I would change out of these traveling cloths though."

Nodding Verya stepped forward to help her mistress from her green traveling dress. After she was dressed in a sapphire blue gown, Lithôniel sat before the large mirror as her long dark reddish brown hair was brushed out and left loose to cascade down her back. Exiting the bedroom she made her way from the sitting room to the hall outside.

Looking left, she knew the stairs further down the passage would lead back down to the King's Hall but to the right, there was the unknown. Turning right she made her way down the hallway eyes taking in everything there was to see. While wondering though Lithôniel became lost, for though Elves had excellent senses of direction, being underground in an unfamiliar place caused her to become disoriented.

Turning down a passageway she looked for something familiar, but the stone all appeared the same to her. Hearing running feet and laughter she turned and was nearly run into by two Dwarflings rushing past.

"Hurry, he'll catch us!" The elder blond child called.

"Wait for me!" The younger dark haired one cried falling slightly behind.

"BOYS!" A voice shouted.

Spotting Lithôniel the Dwarflings pled, "Hide us."

Drawing the children to her she hid them behind her, hearing heavier footsteps as another approached. Billowing out her skirts she hoped to hide them better.

"Fili! Kili!" The deep voice called once more, as the figure came into view, Lithôniel was surprised to see Thorin, slightly out of breath running down the hall. Upon seeing her he stopped short saying, "My Lady Lithôniel, my apologies for shouting."

"Your quarry must be fearsome indeed Prince Thorin." She smiled.

"Actually I am searching for my nephews. You haven't seen them have you?"

"I-"

Lithôniel was about to deny seeing the Dwarflings when laughter broke forth from behind her. Stretching his neck Thorin attempted to look behind the Elf to the hiding children. Clasping her hands together Lithôniel pressed her lips together to keep from laughing but a smile still broke through.

"I know you are there. You might as well come out." Thorin smirked.

Cautiously the Dwarflings came out from behind the Elf, though they kept her skirts in their tiny fists.

"We're sorry Uncle." The blond apologized, booted foot toeing the stone floor.

"Fili, you're mother is worried sick. What kind of example are you setting for Kili?"

"We just wanted to have some fun." Kili pouted.

"Oh thank Mahal, Thorin you found them." A Dwarf woman sighed coming into view.

The newcomer shared a striking resemblance to Thorin, same hair and eyes. Their jaws were the same shape and even their manner of walking was similar. She was dressed in dark blue with many pieces of jewelry adorning her neck, ears and fingers. Even the beads in her hair were of precious stones and metals. Though the most striking feature Lithôniel noticed was the strip of hair that ran along the Dwarf woman's jaw.

"Princess Lithôniel allow me to introduce my sister Princess Dis." Thorin presented.

"I am honored to meet you Princess." The Elf bowed.

"You may call me Dis. I rarely feel like a Princess anymore chasing after these two." She glared at her sons, hands on her hips. "Why did you run off this time?"

"Gwyra tried to make us take a nap a whole hour earlier. We tried telling her Eladda would let us keep playing but she wouldn't listen." Fili defended.

Sighing Thorin said, "Eladda is not your nurse anymore, she is far too old to always be running after you. You must listen to Gwyra."

"But she's no fun." Kili pouted.

Stepping forward Lithôniel asked, "If I may?" Receiving a nod from the grown-ups, she knelt down so she was eye level with the Dwarflings. "Your Uncle is right boys, you should listen to your nurse, though I'm sure you miss your old one. And I do not doubt she misses you as well. Perhaps if you are well behaved a visit may be planned?"

Looking up hopefully Fili asked, "Can we Maamr? Can we really?"

Giving her sons a sharp look she answered, "If Eladda is up for it. And it would be as the Princess says, only if you behave."

"We will." The brothers replied together smiling happily.

"Come along then, you will take your nap, then it will be supper then if you are good you may attend the celebrations for a time before bed." Dis instructed. "Say goodbye to the Princess."

"You may all call me Lithôniel." She smiled rising and smiling at the small family.

Nodding Dis took the boys by the hands and led them around a corner and out of sight.

"Did you wish to speak with my Grandfather? Or were you looking for something?" Thorin asked.

Blushing slightly Lithôniel replied, "No I wished to explore your kingdom but became lost within the caverns."

Letting out a small chuckle he offered, "Allow me to show you around then."

"I do not mean to impose..."

"It would be my honor." Thorin smiled at her.

Shyly smiling back Lithôniel nodded at his generosity. Holding out a hand Thorin directed her to their left, opposite the way his sister and nephews had gone.

"What would you like to see first?" He asked as they continued to walk.

Stopping the Elf thought for a moment before saying, "I hear you have a mountain top look out, where one can see for miles and miles. I would very much like to see it."

"Does being within the mountain disturb you already?" Thorin asked concerned.

"Not at all." She assured. "It is merely... I have never been outside of Mirkwood except to visit kin within Imladris. I find the world much bigger then I had imagined and I wish to see much of it."

Smiling Thorin replied, "Then I shall show you as much of Erobor as your stay allows."

* * *

Once the pair had reached the top of a long winding staircase a great opening in the mountain gave way to a giant terrace carved from the stone on the cliff face. Stepping out into the fresh air Lithôniel took in a deep breath as she walked towards the edge of the railing.

"The stories were true." She breathed looking out over the landscape. The day had become overcast hand slightly foggy. Mist hung about the landscape like a thin sheet and the world seemed hushed and still. But to Lithôniel it was one of the most beautiful sights she had ever seen.

"I fear the weather has turned on us. You should gaze upon it in Spring. Or even Summer. The hills are covered in wildflowers as far as the eye can see."

"It is magnificent as it is now. You may find me strange but I prefer _Iavas_ , the time of harvest. The color of the leaves changing, the smells and scents of apples, spices, and of new fallen leaves." She smiled dreamily.

"Autumn is my favorite season as well. It is also at the end of the season we celebrate Durin's Day. There is much feasting and merry making to be had."

"It sounds much like _Turuhalmë_ , though we celebrate it in mid-winter. In the morning great sleighs go out into the woods to collect firewood and the songs and drinking of Turuhalmë occurs while all listen to old tales beside the fire created from this gathered wood. Never is the Tale-fire allowed to go out or to die into grey ash, but on the eve of Turuhalmë it sinks always to a smaller blaze until Turuhalmë itself, when great logs were brought into the Room of the Tale-fire and being blessed by Lindo with ancient magic it roars and flares anew upon the hearth. _Turuhalmë_ is celebrated in the morning, followed in the evening by a festival called _Durufui_ where more feasting and celebration takes place _."_ She told him. Then looking out at the landscape once more she said, "Tell me about everything we can see from here."

Coming to stand beside her Thorin pointed out, "There lies the city of Dale, trading center of the north. Our wealth has spilled over and made their town grand and strong." Then pointing in the other direction he said, "And there lays-"

"Mirkwood." The elf smiled fondly. "Though seeing it from this distance makes it seem much less like home."

"You have truly never been outside The Greenwood?"

Shaking her head she answered, "My Tôrana deemed me too young to travel beyond the visiting of family. Though once The Arkenstone was discovered, I was able to convince him I was now of age and that a diplomatic visit was the ideal time for me to experience the world beyond our home. I confess I did not come to Erobor so much to see the gem as I did to see the mountain itself and her people."

"My Grandfather sees the jewel as a sign we are favored above all Durin's folk."

"It is a wonder." The Elf conceded. "Many a song and poem will try to capture it's magnificence. I doubt few, even ones composed by my kind, shall be able to capture it's beauty."

For a time they stood in companionable silence taking in the scenery, but then Thorin asked, "How do you find Erobor? What you have so far seen."

"It has a grand splendor I confess I did not expect. I knew your people's wealth was beyond compare, but from what I had heard about dwarves living in mountains, underground, I thought it would be dark, and cold. With water forming upon the walls and a dank smell to permeate the halls. But it is none of those things. Your people create beauty from simple raw material and craft it into works of splendor."

"I believe you may be the first Elf to ever say such things about Dwarven halls." Thorin laughed, stepping closer. Wrinkling his brow he commented, "Your eyes, they are a truly remarkable color. At first I thought them blue or green, but now I see they are purple, like amethyst."

Smiling Lithôniel replied, "A gift, from my Ada along with the coloring of my hair. His kin hale from Imladris, though the colors are rare among them as well. My mother and King Thranduil were twins, nearly identical." Though her voice was steady, his nearness caused her a slight not unpleasant unease.

"There are so many differences between our races, I wish to know more but do not want to appear rude."

Smiling Lithôniel assured, "You may ask what you wish."

"I hear that Elves love only once, and so deeply and wholly that it is possible to die of a broken heart."

At that the Elf's face fell. Turning away she stepped from Thorin, arms wrapped around herself. Softly she answered, "It is entirely possible. It happened to my Naneth _._ My Ada was killed in an Orc attack and she could not escape the sorrow."

Shocked, Thorin gaped at her. Placing a tentative hand on his shoulder he whispered. "Forgive me Lithôniel. Had I known, I would have never asked. May Mahal strike me down for my carelessness."

"No." The Elf plead turning to face him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "You did not know. And there is no shame in the asking of questions that spark curiosity."

"I cannot imagine growing up in a tree. It is as difficult as living in a mountain is to you I am certain." Thorin tried to steer the conversation to lighter subjects.

"Have you never been to Mirkwood Thorin?" She asked looking him in the eye. When he shook his head Lithôniel explained, "While much of the palace is indeed crafted from live trees, there are caverns and stone structures."

"Forgive my assumptions. I meant no offense." Thorin apologized.

Smiling slightly she shook her head, "There is nothing to apologize for. I confess I myself had many assumptions before my arrival. Along with your home, I had heard Dwarven men were brutish and crass, and the women nearly as ill tempered and mannered. I was also told that Dwarf women have great tangled beards much like their men. But I have found all such tales ring false."

Chuckling Thorin replied, "I am sure it was a slight shock to see a Dwarf woman the first time. Or even a Dwarven man."

"A curiosity describes it better. I had never seen hair upon one's face before. I was nearly tempted to pull upon a few to ensure they were indeed real." Lithôniel admitted smiling sheepishly.

"It is a good thing you did not. Such an act is demeaning to my kind." He told her, letting out a full bellied laugh.

Eyes going wide she apologized, "I did not know, I am glad I restrained myself then. It was just so strange, I could not imagine an Elven man with a beard. Let alone a woman." She explained, turning to look back at Mirkwood.

Eyes softening at her back Thorin replied, "That is a sight I long to see, perhaps your Uncle would agree to allow us to fit him with one." He joked.

"I do not know." Lithôniel replied, then turning to face him she held up a lock of her hair to above her lip saying, "Do not Elleths make prettier sights then Elvish men?"

Staring at her a long moment wide eyed Thorin said nothing, then gently removing the lock of hair from her hand he placed it behind her ear where it belonged.

"You are beautiful without it My Lady." He assured in a hushed voice.

Blushing again she let her eyes fall to the floor, Thorin shifted as if he would take her chin in his hand to make her look at him once more, but thought better of it and instead remarked, "It is getting late, the feast is likely to start in less then two hours. Perhaps we should return, do you plan on changing before dinner?"

Nodding Lithôniel followed him back down the stairs, taking in all that had passed between them in such a short while.

* * *

"Your gown is ready Hiril vuin _."_ Verya told her mistress laying out a silver and cream colored dress.

"Ni lassui." Lithôniel muttered as the serving elf helped her out of the blue dress she was wearing. The color of royalty in Mirkwood was silver, while the Dwarven color was blue. While she resided in Mirkwood she wore greens and greys of her kin, but she preferred her time in Rivendell if only for the multitude of colors she was able to wear.

Smoothing out the shimmering fabric the Princess sat before the mirror once more as Verya began to braid her hair in a partial up-do with tiny braids running throughout, the rest of her wavy hair falling in soft loose curls. Tiny white flowers decorated her locks like pearls.

Once she deemed her appearance suitable Lithôniel made her way towards the exit, becoming surprised when she found Thorin standing outside her door.

"My lady." Thorin inclined his head, eyes taking in everything about her from her hair to the hem of her gown.

Smiling despite her confusion she replied, "You may call me Lithôniel, as I have said."

"Of course. Lithôniel, my grandfather has decided to...take you under his wing, as it were, tonight at the feast. I have been asked to escort you to The Great Hall, where you shall seat as a guest of honor."

"Your grandfather is far too generous." The Elf smiled. Looking past Thorin though she said, "I would of course need to ask my Uncle, if I have his permission."

"Such an honor can not be ignored." Thranduil from behind the Dwarf nodded having come to collect her for dinner himself, The Mirkwood King gave a long look to Thorin before turning to his niece. "I hope you shall uphold the dignity of your people."

"I shall do my best." Lithôniel smiled bowing to her uncle before looping her arm through the Dwarf Prince's.

* * *

Once they reached The Great Hall Thorin lead Lithôniel towards the head of the giant table.

'Ahhh Princess Lithôniel, it is a pleasure to look upon you once again." Thror greeted in a booming voice.

As Thorin pulled out her chair and helped her sit, she replied, "Your majesty, my gratitude at your invitation is without measure."

"Polite as she is beautiful." The King laughed. "Thorin hurry up and sit beside the pretty Elf so we can eat."

* * *

As the feast ran down, Lithôniel smiled at the Dwarves all around singing and laughing. Thorin had introduced her to some of his kin, his distant cousins Oin and Gloin from the north as well as their cousins, Balin, Commander of the guard and his brother Dwalin. Of the new dwarves she had been introduced to Lithôniel enjoyed Balin's company the most, finding the Commander wise and gentle, a lover of books and conversation.

As dancers started to make their way to the dance floor, the atmosphere became even more lively as the crowd began to clap and stomp to the rhythm. Sitting from her position between Thorin and Balin, Lithôniel craned her neck to try and see the dancers better.

"Would you like to see the dancers closer Princess?" Balin asked.

Looking to the elder Dwarf she smiled, "That would be lovely."

Standing Balin held out his hand for Lithôniel who took it smiling as he lead her to the dance floor. Reaching the edge, she laughed watching the couples whirl about the floor. The song was riotous as the dwarves sang about a cat and a fiddle with a man in the moon. But then the song changed to a melodic upbeat tempo.

"Forgive me Princess, but it would be best if we move back to the High Table now." Balin grasped her arm gently and tried to direct her back.

"Why? A new song has just started." Lithôniel questioned confused.

"Balin, bring her back to the table." Thorin suddenly appeared at the Elf's side.

Looking slightly exasperated Balin replied, "I am trying Thorin."

"What is going on? Why is it so important I return to the table?"

"This is a courting song Your Majesty. Usually in our culture it is the Dwarven women who court the men. Being as how there are fewer of them then us, they generally have their pick, but during the season of Autumn, it is acceptable for a man to choose a woman he may court. And she can not say no. We simply fear you may be pulled into the dance and find yourself betrothed to a Dwarf man at the end of it." Balin explained.

No sooner had he finished his explanation when Lithôniel felt a great tug on her arm as she was swept up into the dance. As one voice the Dwarves sang:

_"Just give me your hand,_  
 _Give me your hand._  
 _Just give me your hand_  
 _And I'll walk with you,_  
 _Through the streets of our land,_  
 _Through the mountains so grand._  
 _If you give me your hand._  
 _Just give me your hand,_  
 _And come along with me._  
 _Will you give me your hand,_  
 _And the world it can see,_  
 _That we can be free,_  
 _In peace and harmony?_  
 _From the north to the south._  
 _From the east to the west._  
 _Every mountain, every valley,_  
 _Every bush and birds nest!"_

All around the Elf was twirled between various partners. Because she did not know the steps, she faltered a bit between the dancers, but her Elven grace kept her from stumbling.

_"By day and night,_  
 _Through all struggle and strife,_  
 _And beside you, to guide you,_  
 _Forever, my love._  
 _For love's not for one,_  
 _But for both of us to share._  
 _For our country so fair,_  
 _For our world and what's there._

_Just give me your hand,_  
 _Give me your hand,_  
 _Just give me your hand,_  
 _For the world it is ours._  
 _All the sea and the land,_  
 _To destroy or command,_  
 _If you give me your hand._  
 _Just give me your hand,_  
 _In a gesture of peace._  
 _Will you give me your hand_  
 _And all troubles will cease,_  
 _For the strong and the weak,_  
 _For the rich and the poor?_  
 _All peoples and creeds,_  
 _Let's meet their needs._  
 _With a passion, we can fashion,_  
 _A new world of love!"_

_"_ Lithôniel!"

At hearing her name she turned and spotted Thorin attempting to make his way towards her. Suddenly a large dwarf barreled into her causing her to fly forward, but a solid object caused her to stop short of falling to the ground. As arms circled around her middle, Lithôniel looked up and discovered she had been caught by Throin, who was currently looking at deep into her eyes. And unreadable but powerful emotion in his blue orbs.

Then it was as if the feeling in the room shifted, and they were the only ones in it. Taking her hands Thorin placed them in the proper place and began to move with her about the floor. Having seen some of the steps as she was being tossed about, the Elf was able to passably follow along as he guided her. As a great whirl in the music came up, Thorin shifted his hands to her hips and lifted her up, twirling her into the air. Grasping onto his upper arms Lithôniel allowed herself a moment to appreciate his strong broad shoulders and the way the muscles rippled beneath her hands.

_"By day and night,_  
 _Through all struggle and strife,_  
 _And beside you, to guide you,_  
 _Forever, my love._  
 _For love's not for one,_  
 _But for both of us to share._  
 _For our country so fair,_  
 _For our world and what's there."_

As the song ended Thorin let her down slowly, as if he did so reluctantly. Then taking her hand he gave her a slight bow before leading her off the floor. Lithôniel did not miss the fact he hid not release her hand until she was fully seated back at the table.

"Marvelous! Marvelous." Thror laughed clapping at the pair. "You are a lovely dancer my dear. When pared with the right partner." He winked at Thorin. Looking to The King of Mirkwood he commented, "Thranduil your niece is a credit to your kin."

"Your praise is gracious." Thranduil inclined his head from further down the table, though his eyes flashed with annoyance at his niece and the Dwarven Prince.

The rest of the evening Lithôniel spent talking with Balin, Dwalin, Thror, Thrain and Dis. The Dwarven Princess told Lithôniel that her sons had fallen asleep soon after they had been fed dinner and would not be joining them, though they wished to spend time with her before she departed home once more. Smiling the Elf agreed, finding the Dwarflings adorable and enchanting.

Despite the fact she sat next to him, Lithôniel found she could not draw Thorin into conversation. He continued to stare off into the distance, drinking goblet after goblet of ale, and play with his signet ring. As the feast ended and Thror called everyone to retire to their chambers for the evening, she wondered if she had upset him somehow.

* * *

The next morning she rose early, and after asking instructions from a guard, made her way to the Training Cavern. There was no one about, the Elf assuming the Dwarves were still in bed, the remnants of drink they consumed having gone to their head.

Removing her bow from her shoulder Lithôniel nocked an arrow and loosed it into a target on the far side of the room. The arrow's head landed with a satisfying thrum in the center of the target. Drawing out another from her quiver she loosed it from the bow and landed a shot next to the last. The next shot she landed split the shaft of the first arrow in two.

Sensing another's approach she turned and found Thorin making his way into the cavern.

Stopping short once seeing her, he said, "Forgive my intrusion. I will allow you quiet to continue."

"Thorin, wait." Lithôniel pleaded lowing her bow. "Have I done something to displease you?"

Eyes going wide, he stepped closer. Placing a gentle hand on her arm he questioned, "Why do you think that?"

"You have avoided me since we danced." She told him. Then realization dawned. Gasping she asked, "Thorin, are we betrothed? Is that the cause of your anger?"

Face softening he took her free hand in his. "No, we are not betrothed. There are many customs and rituals that must be observed before we would be pledged to one another. And I am not angry, merely confused. I have...a strange feeling stir within me when you are near. It as if my heart beats faster and slower at the same time, and a feeling of extreme excitement and contentment settle upon me at once."

Smiling, Lithôniel gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "You are not alone in your confusion, for I feel it too."

"Truly?" He asked chuckling with disbelief, a bright smile spreading across his face, the light reaching her eyes.

"Gellon ned i galar i chent gîn ned i gladhog." She smiled.

"Your eyes are the beautiful ones, especially when you laugh."

Surprised she questioned, "Pedig edhellen?"

"Our people share a border, it is beneficial to both our kingdoms that the future King speak Elvish.' He smirked.

"Perhaps during my stay, you would be able to teach me the language of your people."

Smiling Thorin bowed over her hand still within his. 'It would be my honor."

Blushing slightly Lithôniel smiled brightly at him.

* * *

For the next three weeks the pair spent at least part of every day together, sparring, exploring and learning about each other's peoples and each other. During that time Lithôniel also spent her days with Dis and her sons, finding herself falling more and more in love with the children.

To the Elves, all children were considered precious. Because they were immortal, Elven children were rare and thus, furiously protected and often spoiled beyond measure.

Time was also spent with Balin and Dwalin, conversations upon politics, trade, and philosophy with the elder were stimulating and she enjoyed them greatly. The younger was gruff and often seemed off-putting but once Lithôniel began sparring with the Dwarf he seemed to warm up to her, realizing she was no delicate flower of a Princess.

All too soon though the time of the Elves' stay drew to a close and she found herself standing beside King Thranduil as they bid their goodbyes. As her Uncle exchanged pleasantries with King Thror, she allowed her mind to wonder back to an hour before as she and Thorin had shared a private goodbye of their own.

_"You travel home to Mirkwood." He spoke softly, taking her hand in his, he gently brushed his thumb over her silky skin._

_Shaking her head she corrected, "I shall travel with my Uncle for a time, but then our paths shall diverge and I shall travel with a company of guards and attendants to Rivendell, there is where I will spend _Firith_ and _Rhîw_ with my kin."_

_"May I...may I write to you when you are away?" He asked shyly._

_"I would despair if you didn't." She told him honestly, a hand coming to cup his face, gently running her fingers across the coarse hairs of his short beard. She still found the growth fascinating._

_"Farewell Lithôniel. Not a day will go by that I will not think of you, and I shall count the hours until we see each other again."_

_"Guren níniatha n'i lû n'i a-govenitham" She told him, tears forming in her eyes._

_"And my heart shall not be whole until you are once again in my arms." He assured her._

_Drawing her to him, they held onto each other tightly, breathing deeply to keep the scent and feel of one another until they met again. Drawing back, Lithôniel placed a quick kiss upon his lips. Surprised they stared at each other a long moment. Then placing his hand upon her neck Thorin crushed his mouth to hers once more. As their lips moved against each other's they both let out sighs of pleasure feeding on the emotions that had been unleashed._

_Pulling back she breathed, "I must go. They will come searching for me soon."_

_Pressing his forehead to hers Thorin pleaded, "Don't leave me."_

_"I never truly shall. You need only search your heart, and you shall find me there. Always."_

"Gwaem Lithôniel, your journey is long and I would not have us set upon the road past midday." Thranduil interrupted her thoughts.

"Yes Tôrana." She agreed half heartedly. To the Dwarven Royals she spoke, " Na lû e-govaned vîn." Letting her gaze linger on Thorin.

"By the grace of Audi it shall not be a long time." King Thror smiled gently at her. "Farewell and many blessings on your halls."

Bowing Lithôniel followed her Uncle from The King's Hall. Though her spirit cried out for one last look upon Thorin, she refused. For she knew if she did, she would never be able to leave. But they would see each other again. Somehow she knew this was certain.

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	2. Absence Makes The Heart Grow Fonder

Before I go further I'd like to say that this is an AU fic and therefore I am taking a bit of artistic license with some things. I plan on following the movie closer than the book but will still diverge slightly from the set path.

That being said, I know a few things will be off from the norm and what other people have written and such. That's the point, I'm really going to try to make this unique. Mainly the fact that I have written in Fili and Kili during the time that the Dwarves were in Erobor. Though they are there, in my head they are very young, Fili being no older than 5 and Kili around 3.

If you have issues with this, there is a back button at the top of your window. ;)

I own nothing.

* * *

"Na vedui! Gi suilon Ieltorada."

Smiling Lithôniel quickly dismounted her horse and ran up the small staircase to the waiting Elleth at the top. Embracing each other the pair let out a laugh as they drew apart and studied each other.

"Iston i nîf gîn. Mae g'ovannen Arwen." She replied hugging the other Elf happily.

Looping her arm through her cousin's Arwen asked, "How was your time within Erebor? You must tell me everything."

"Iellig, Lithôniel has traveled far and I am certain she could very well use a short rest before she is bombarded by questions."

Turning the Elves spotted Elrond coming towards them, a small warm smile upon his face.

"Tôrada" Lithôniel smiled embracing him happily. "I have missed you."

"And you have been missed." Elrond assured her. Pulling away he gave her hand a gentle squeeze saying, "Your room has been readied if you require it."

"Guren glassui. I shall join you for dinner and divulge all detail of my visit with the Dwarves." She assured her Uncle and Cousin as she turned to follow a serving elf.

* * *

After being shown to her room, Lithôniel sighed with contentment as she was removed from her green woolen traveling dress and into a red gown made of velvet and cotton. Though she had spent much of the near 2,000 years of her life within Mirkwood, she always felt more at home within Imladris where she was not placed under constant watch by a small battalion of guards.

Smiling at the familiar surroundings she made her way around the room to re-acquaint herself with the space. Trailing her fingers over the spines of her modest book collection, she made her way to the large lounging couch set to look out over the large balcony outside her room. In the distance she could see the Misty Mountains through the trees colored orange, red and yellow. The sight of the mountain range had always been beautiful to her, yet now, having seen the wonder that was Erebor, the view seemed diminished.

Turning away from the sight Lithôniel moved to her desk and was happily surprised to find three letters awaiting her. Recognizing the writings she tore open the first and read it eagerly.

It was from Legolas, her cousin writing to inform her of goings on in Mirkwood and to wish her an enjoyable time within Imladris yet longing for her return to The Greenwood.

The next was from Tauriel, Lithôniel's closest friend outside her kin. Though the other Elleth was a Silven Elf they had grown up as siblings. Tauriel's mother and father had been killed in an Orc attack much like her own parents, and because of their high standing within The Guard, King Thranduil had taken her in and raised her alongside his son and niece.

Reading the letter Lithôniel smiled as her friend shared news that she had been made Captain of The King's Elven Guard. Though she was considered a ward of The King, the Wood Elf had to work immeasurably hard to carve out a place within the high ranks of Mirkwood. Knowing her uncle recognized her friend's hard work caused a warmness within her chest she did not often associate with her mother's brother. The rest of the letter was much like Legolas' wishing her well and a soon return.

The third was from Elladan and Elrohir, Arwen's elder brothers, the twins combining their message into a three page text of a combination of both their news. They were currently riding with The Rangers dispatching Orc packs to the north and would not likely return soon, though they too expressed hope she was well.

Placing the letter down Lithôniel tried not to be too disappointed that there was not a fourth, one from Thorin. While her sensible side argued that it had barely been a full month since their departure, her chest tightened at the thought that maybe he had forgotten about her already.

Attempting to shake off the dark brooding thoughts, she turned instead to large canopied bed placed near the center of the room. Trailing her fingers over the post she sighed and leaned against the wood, shaped to appear as an ash tree, her namesake.

Laying down upon the coverlet she relaxed her body and allowed her mind to wander. While Elves did not sleep in the sense that other races do, they rested their minds by thinking upon beautiful thoughts. And they rested their bodies by lying still yet open-eyed. However, this time her mind wandered farther than it ever had.

_She found herself within The King's Hall in Erebor, yet she was not looking up at the throne but down from it. Glancing to her left she spied Thorin, seated upon his Grandfather's seat of power, the large Mithril crown upon his head. Below a crowd of Dwarves, Elves and Men milled about seeking audience with The King._

_Rising regally Thorin held up a hand announcing, "The Queen and I shall be retiring. This assembly will reconvene tomorrow afternoon."_

_Taking her hand he led her from The Hall and the murmuring crowd. Turning down a corridor they entered through a pair of large heavy wooden doors, once they were closed though Thorin gently pushed her against them and kissed her hungrily._

_"Alone at last." His deep voice rumbled against her neck as he trailed his lips against her skin. Sighing with pleasure she tangled her hands in his hair pulling him closer as she angled her neck to give him better access._

_Suddenly there came a soft knock upon the door._

_"Ignore it." Thorin urged stopping his ministrations just long enough to speak._

_"Ada? Maamr?" A small voice came through the wooden barrier along with more urgent knocking._

_Sighing Thorin stepped back and looked at her saying, "Your going to get that aren't you?" Though his face held a look of disappointment, his eyes held a tender joy within them._

_"We can continue later. Once they are asleep." She assured him, placing a long lingering kiss on his lips before turning to open the door."What is it darlings?" She asked as she turned the handle._

_As soon as the door was opened enough, two children slipped inside the room. A boy and girl, nearly the same age. They boy had dark brown hair and deep bluish-purple eyes while the girl had black hair and bright sky blue eyes._

_"Ada! Ada." The girl chanted as she raced towards Thorin._

_Laughing The King picked her up around the middle and hoisted her into the air. "How fares my princess this fine afternoon?" He asked._

_"I drew you a picture." The little one told him. After he set her down she handed him a paper clutched in her small hand. "Look there's me, and you and Maamr."_

_"Where's your brother?" Thorin asked looking over the crude sketch._

_Pointing to the corner of the paper she smiled mischievously. "Over there being sat on by a troll."_

_"Now that is unkind." Lithôniel spoke up._

_"But he told me I'm a dumby earlier cuz I didn't know the Khuzdul word for tree." The girl pouted._

_Looking at her son Lithôniel raised an eyebrow, appraising the boy's guilty sheepish look._

_"Mahal help me." Thorin groaned pinching the bridge of his nose. "Apologize to your sister. Now."_

_"Sorry." The boy grumbled not looking at his sibling. His sister folded her arms across her chest, clearly not believing his sincerity._

_"Go prepare for dinner children. Your father and I will join you shortly." Lithôniel told them, attempting to keep the peace._

_After they were gone Thorin came up to her and placed his large hands upon her abdomen, a slight bump of another child growing within her._

_"I pray you do not send me over the brink of sanity that I now barely cling to with your siblings." He pleaded placing a kiss upon the growing babe._

_Chucking Lithôniel drew him up and placed a kiss on his lips. "You love them just as they are. Do not deny it."_

_"True." He conceded wrapping his arms around her waist and drawing her against him. "And I love their Maamr more every day."_

As suddenly as the vision appeared, it vanished. Rising suddenly, she let out a small gasp, it was nearly nightfall. She had been lying within her room for much of the afternoon. Exiting the room quickly she made her way to the outdoor dining area over looking the river. As she arrived she realized that the evening meal was already laid out, though no one was eating. Realizing her attendance was what held them back she quickly placed herself in a chair beside Arwen.

"Are you well Lithôniel?" Lord Elrond asked a concerned look on his face.

"Indeed." She assured him, though her tone of voice betrayed her. She had never had a vision of Foresight before and it left her tired and shaken. "I merely extended myself further then I had realized whilst traveling."

Pursing his lips, Elrond furrowed his brow unconvinced but made no reply.

Sensing the unease of her father and cousin, Arwen spoke up, "Come, tell us of Erebor and The Arkenstone."

Turning to the Elleth, Lithôniel smiled and replied, "The Arkenstone is a wonder. A treasure crafted by The Valar themselves. It as if they placed light of the heavens within the stone to be hidden within the mountain."

"I wonder then, as you said." Elrond said thoughtfully, no doubt wishing to see the stone for himself. "And what of Thror? I have not seen him since he returned the seat of power of his kingdom to Erobor."

"I find him...jovial and kind. Though there is an underlying mischievousness about him. Something his great-grandsons have inherited." She smiled fondly remembering time spent with Fili and Kili. "His son Thrain is reserved and soft-spoken. I dare say he barely spoke ten words to me the entirety of the time I spent there."

"And Thorin?"

Smiling at the Prince's name Lithôniel replied. "He is kind, compassionate, bold, and loyal. A true Prince, he holds the needs of his people close to his heart and he has a manner about him...one of strength and leadership. He will make a fine king one day."

Realizing her cousin was staring at her with a knowing smirk, Lithôniel placed a piece of honeyed bread into her mouth and chewed with vigor. After she swallowed, she took a healthy drink of wine to avoid Arwen's continued gaze.

As the meal progressed Elrond and his daughter told her of the goings on in the valley while she had been away, including the news that Estel would be joining them in a fortnight. Happy that she would be able to see him after so long she expressed her joy to her Uncle while sending a knowing smirk to her cousin, reminiscent of the one Arewn had given earlier.

Despite the joy of being returned to her Uncle's house, Lithôniel could not help the slight empty ache in her chest as she continued to eat and converse with her family. The quiet, simple meal was the complete opposite of the many feasts she had attended almost nightly within Erobor. Even regular meals she had taken with Thorin and his family were loud and slightly disorganized with lots of meat and boisterous singing throughout.

In comparison Elven meals held no meat except the occasional fish and the music and occasional singing was meant to sooth and relax. Lithôniel felt a smile at the corners of her mouth imagining Thorin and his relatives at this table. Dwalin would likely bemoan the fact there was no meat, while Oin, despite his failing hearing would likely not enjoy the music being played.

"Lithôniel, would you care to join me for an evening ride?" Arwen asked.

Nodding, she rose as the pair excused themselves to return to their rooms to change into proper riding cloths. Arwen emerged wearing a blue steel grey overdress and white leggings while Lithôniel wore a silvery lavender dress and black leggings. Mounting their horses the Elleths spurred their horses into a canter, light musical laughter carrying on the wind in their wake.

* * *

"You care for Prince Thorin."

Surprised, Lithôniel looked up at her cousin, and realized the words were a statement not a question. Arwen looked back at her with a small smile of understanding yet concern radiated from her eyes.

"I..." Sighing she nodded. "Yes I do. I can't explain it, we have barely known one another two months and I...have never felt this way about anyone. I always assumed I would one day meet an Ellon, we would court and get to know one another, fall in love and spend eternity together. Yet, it barely took one look for me to begin to fall for Thorin. Almost like the stories of old."

Looking out over the river they had stopped beside Arwen's glance lifted to look at the stars. "You do not need me to tell you of the obstacles you will face. King Thranduil will not be pleased that you wish to pledge yourself to a Dwarf. And there is also the issue of time. We live forever Lithôniel, and while his people live longer then Men, they do not often survive past 300 years."

"You are right, I know the folly of my emotions yet they can not be helped." She sighed coming to sit upon a large boulder along the rocky shore line. "By the will of The Valar I will spend what time I am able with him, and after he has past from this world, I shall accept The Fading and hope to follow him into the halls of his fathers."

"For what weight it carries, you shall have my support should you press Ada and King Thranduil for their blessing." Arwen assured her coming to sit beside her cousin.

Taking her hand, Lithôniel gave it a grateful squeeze. "It carries all the weight in the world."

* * *

The next morning's dawn found The Mirkwood Princess within her room reading the saga of Beren and Lúthien. It had once been her favorite story, yet now experiencing much of the same uncertainty as her ancestor she felt an ache within.

Suddenly a large black bird flew into her room landing slightly unsteadily on one of her bedpost. Letting out a gurgling croak, the bird held out its leg. Rising, Lithôniel realized it was a raven, a small scroll attached to its left leg.

"Av-'osto." She soothed the raven as it hopped nervously about. Gently removing the parchment, Lithôniel stoked the bird's wings soothingly.

Unrolling the scroll she could not help the beaming smile when she realized it was from Thorin.

**My dearest Lithôniel,**

**I have written this letter many times in my head, and even more upon paper, yet I can not seem to make the words come out right. But for you, I shall try. It has been a month since our farewell, and I've had time to write a book about the way you act and look, but I haven't been able to write a paragraph. Words are always getting in my way. You will find me a far cry from the many Ellon you likely have clamoring for your hand, for I am not a Dwarf of poetry, or music, the melody seems to run from me. But I would trade all of the gems and metals within Erobor to see you once more, for you took something with you when you left. My heart. Men lananubukhs menu.**

**Forever faithfully yours.**

**Thorin**

* * *

Months past and Rhiw melted into Echuir yet Lithôniel barely noticed the turning of the seasons. Everyday she and Thorin exchanged letters, filled with words of love and longing, both of them holding onto the fragile hope of being reunited. But as the snow's began to fade the Elf knew she would soon need to leave Imladris and make her way back to Mirkwood.

The thought filled her with a sense of foreboding, for though the Greenwood was closer to Erobor and her love, she knew her movements and such would be carefully monitored by her more over protective uncle.

But there was one thing that continued to resurface in her thoughts more than her impending departure from Rivendell. It was the vision she had been sent, for that is what she knew it must be. A vision of foresight sent by The Valar to give her hope. Yet there was still a measure of doubt that plagued her happiness. Knowing her thoughts would not rest, she sought out Lord Elrond.

Finding him within the library she took a deep steadying breath before she called softly, "Tôrada?"

Looking up from the book in his hands Elrond smiled, "Lithôniel, come closer child. What has been troubling you?"

Smiling fondly at his concern she confessed, "I received a vision, upon my first day returning here. I was Queen Under The Mountain, wife of Thorin. We had children, we were happy. Is this joy truly what the future holds for me?"

"Dear one, you know that the future is always changing, shifting. There are many paths one may take, and fate is woven together like a cloth, so that one's destiny intertwines with many others. This is but one possibility that your destiny holds."

Feeling her heart constrict she let out a small sob, "Then why show it to me at all? Why grant such hope, only to snatch it away?"

"You may yet find love and happiness with Thorin. Though not perhaps in the way you would expect."

Falling silent a moment Lithôniel looked at Elrond a long moment before saying, "You support this. Should we wish to marry you would give your blessing."

"Much has been taken from you, your parents, a true sense of home, I would not begrudge you this. I only request caution, we love but once, and Dwarves have been known to be fickle, though not near so much as Men. Guard your heart until you know he has given you his fully."

Knowing his warning came too late she merely smiled and said, "Yes Tôrada."

* * *

"Do you know what this is?" King Thranduil held up a large sheet of parchment in his hand.

Standing before him on the other side of his desk Lithôniel shook her head. She had been back within Mirkwood for nearly three months and in that time had barely spoken to her Uncle. Most of her days were spent riding and patrolling the forest with Legolas and Tauriel, both of the Elves happy to have her back. She also continued to write letters to Thorin daily, both of them finding absence did indeed make the heart grow fonder.

"It is an invitation." He drawled continuing, annoyance lacing his voice. "To the 200th birthday celebrations of King Thror. He has expressly requested you attend, worded in such a manner that it would be severely impolite for me to refuse your going."

"Will you be attending as well Tôrana?" She asked, secretly hoping he was not.

Leaning back in his chair the King replied, "No, I shall not. And I have half a mind to refuse to allow you to as well."

Feeling her face pale as hope wavered she responded quickly, "But it is as you said, it would be an insult if at least I would not attend. We rely on metals from Erobor to forge weapons to protect our lands. If we were to slight King Thror he may not continue to trade with us, leaving our defenses weakened."

Gazing at his niece a long time Thranduil finally relented. "You may attend. But your guard will be doubled."

"May Tauriel accompany me? She could disguise herself as one of my attendants." She asked hoping to share the mountain kingdom with her friend.

"No, she is too inexperienced and would likely cause mischief right along side you. No you shall have Melcindómien join you. He is loyal and more than worthy of your time and attentions."

Inwardly Lithôniel groaned. Her uncle had been trying to get her to agree to be courted by the commander of The Guard for years. Though he was handsome and came from a noble family she found him arrogant and cold to those he considered beneath him.

Knowing arguments were futile she merely nodded and bowed knowing she had been dismissed. Exiting her Uncle's study she couldn't help the lightness in her step and the smile upon her face. It wasn't until days later as she left Mirkwood behind her once more that she realized, in her heart, it was if she was journeying home.

 

 

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	3. Hoping and Wishing

I own nothing.

* * *

The clash of steel was near deafening within the Training Cavern of Erobor. Two shadows danced about on the wall as swords met and parried until suddenly all went quiet as one of the fighters overpowered the other. In the center of the cavern Thrain stood over his son, sword to his neck.

"Where is your head Thorin?!" He questioned impatiently.

Batting away his father's sword the younger Prince stood up ignoring the other Dwarf's offered hand. "I was momentarily distracted. It will not happen again."

Taking a readied stance Thrain warned, "A moment is all it takes to see your head parted from your shoulders." As their swords began to clang together once more he surmised, "It is that Elf Princess isn't it?"

"Her name is Lithôniel. And while her beauty can be seen as distracting..."

Frowning slightly Thrain replied, "Do not attempt to lie my son. I have seen how you look at her, it is the same look I held in my eyes when gazing upon your mother."

Stopping his attack suddenly Thorin stared at his father. "Am I that obvious?"

It had been months since Lithôniel had parted and he longed to see her once more. To hold her in his arms and never let her go again, to kiss her lips and brand them with his own, that she would be marked as his forever. He had been surprised to find himself in awe of her beauty when they first met. Having always assumed he would meet and find love with a Dwarvish woman, he brushed off the feelings that stirred when they first met as mere curios admiration due to the fact he had seen few Elven women. But the feeling continued to grow, and at first he had cursed himself deeming the attraction un-Dwarf like, though once he learned she felt the same, he felt a weight lift from his soul.

"To those that know you." Thrain answered, knocking his son's sword from his hands. "She is everything a true Princess should be, kind, compassionate, intelligent and she is one of honor, loyalty and a willing heart."

"You approve of my choice? If she were to be my wife, you would give your blessing?" He asked dumfounded not bothering to look at his disarmed weapon.

Studying his son a long moment his reply was, "She is Elf kind, immortal. Even if you obtain blessings from her kin, she will outlive you many lifetimes over." Seeing Thorin's face fall, he added, "However, should your grandfather allow the match, I will give you my most heartfelt congratulations."

Smiling Thorin stepped forward and embraced his father. While Thrain still had his reservations on the match, his son was happy. However, this Elf would live forever, and he hoped for her sake, she was not playing with Thorin's emotions.

Suddenly Thror came striding into the Training Cavern, his many attendants and advisers trailing along behind him.

"Ahh my dear Thorin, Thrain, there you are. I have been searching for you everywhere. I have received news," He motioned to one of the attendants who stepped forward handing him a piece of parchment. "As you know my 200th birthday will soon be upon us, and I have sent invitations to all of our allies to attend, including The Royal Family of Mirkwood."

Stepping forward hopefully Thorin asked, "They will be attending?"

"No." Thror responded. But then a mischievous smirk crept onto his face, "I fear only Princess Lithôniel shall be gracing us with her presence. King Thranduil is required in celebrations they hold for their Spring Festival, and Prince Legolas humbly refuses." He chuckled knowingly seeing his grandson's face brighten.

Looking at Thorin, it was if he was witnessing the most beautiful sunrise that had ever graced the world. In a hushed whisper he breathed, "She's coming."

* * *

Entering the King's Hall Lithôniel tried to calm her excited nerves. Much was the same as it had been the many months before, yet these corridors and stone halls were familiar to her now, happy memories tied to them in joyful echoes. Forcing herself to walk calmly she was able to curb the overwhelming desire to let out a shout of celebration when she spotted Thorin and race into his arms.

He stood on the right of King Thror as he had done when the first met, yet now he was barely able to contain the smile that split his face when he looked at her.

"Princess Lithôniel, welcome once again to Erebor. Your beauty and grace brighten my halls once more." Thror greeted warmly.

Smiling she bowed and replied, "Cormamin lindua ele lle. As always your kindness is humbling."

Beside her the Commander of her uncle's Guard cleared his throat and placed a wondering hand on her hip.

Missing Thorin's eyes flash at the contact, Lithôniel gave the Elf a short glare before turning her gaze back to The King and introducing, "This is Melcindómien, sent by my Tôrana, King Thranduil to see I am protected during my stay."

"Hîr vuin," The Ellon stepped forward, hand upon his sword as he bowed slightly. "I wish to discuss with you security measures for the Princess during her stay-"

Cutting him off Thror replied, "All such matters may be directed to Balin, Commander of my Guard. It is my Birthday celebrations and I fully intend to enjoy them." Looking to Lithôniel he added, "Princess, your room has been readied. It is the same as you had before, I hope it is once again to your liking."

Nodding the Elleth smiled and murmured a farewell as she exited the hall. But not before sending a small private smile and look at Thorin.

* * *

Within her Sitting Room, Lithôniel looked about at the fine furnishings that were to be hers for the next three weeks. While she was overjoyed to be back, it seemed cruel to know she would spend such a short time here.

"My lady, would you like to change?" Verya asked as the other Serving Elleths unpacked the Princess' trunks once more.

Looking down at her silver traveling dress, she nodded. Verya had just stepped forward to undo her mistress' ties when a knock came at the heavy wooden door.

"Go ahead and answer it." Lithôniel instructed sighing, thinking it was Melcindómien come to flatter her or report on the 'lacking' Dwarvish security.

Verya went to the door and opened it slightly. In a confused voice she called, "My Lady, it is Price Thorin."

Spinning around she could not help the beaming smile and warm heat in her chest. "Let him in. You are all dismissed for now." She instructed.

Looking about at each other slightly worried and confused the Serving Elleths nodded after a moment, and bowed before exiting the room. Thorin stayed in the hallway as the Elves filled out nodding to each politely as they bowed while they passed. Once they were out of sight he stepped over the threshold and closed the door.

"Thorin." Lithôniel breathed taking in his appearance as if he were an apparition.

Not bothering to answer he strode forth and wrapped his arms around her, crushing his lips to hers. Suddenly it was as if she were it on fire. Heat coursed through her veins as she clung to him, not being able to get close enough. One of his hands clutched her hip, no doubt leaving marks where his fingers grasped, while the other cupped her jaw tenderly. Her own hands were tangled within his hair, tugging gently, urging him on.

Breaking apart for air they rested their foreheads together breathing heavily.

"How I have missed you." Thorin growled lowly.

Smiling softly she said, "And I have missed you." Drawing back further slightly she ran her fingertips through his short beard. Thorin placed a soft kiss on her hand with the corner of his mouth but her fingers continued to the short braids now hanging from his chin. "You have begun to grow a beard in earnest."

"It is a special double braid, signaling that I am of age and seeking a woman to be courted by." He told her taking her hand. "Once I have accepted the attentions of one, it shall be re-braided into a single plait."

Nodding, Lithôniel swallowed back a lump of jealousy, wondering how many Dwarven Maids had seen it and lavished their attentions on him. Stepping back she said, "I wish to change and refresh from the road. Please send Verya to attend me."

Giving her a hurt confused look, he nodded none the less and did as she requested, exiting the room and finding the Lady in Waiting just outside the door. With a last lingering look he turned and left her alone.

* * *

After she had been dressed in a dark plum colored gown Lithôniel slipped from her room and made her way to the look out on top of the mountain. The sight was much as Thorin had described it would be in late spring; the plains and hills being covered in wildflowers every color of the rainbow. But the beauty of the sight did nothing to quiet her troubled thoughts.

Despite the private greeting she and Thorin had shared, doubts still plagued her. Amongst her own people, many claimed her beautiful, though all knew Arwen was the fairest of all her kind. And she was not naïve enough to think that their races held the same idea of beauty. The fact that Thorin had grown the courting braids filled her with joy thinking they had been grown for her, but another part feared they were not, and the love she thought she had found was just a dream born of a lonely heart. Perhaps there was a Dwarven Maid that had turned Thorin's head and they were having a laugh at her expense at this very moment.

Letting out a frustrated growl she beat her fists against the stone railing, but the grey rock remained unyielding. Huffing she turned and was about to storm back into the mountain when she spotted another making their way through the large opening.

It was Thorin, shoulders slumped, a defeated troubled look in his eyes. But once he spotted her, his eyes flashed with anger as his jaw clenched.

"Princess." He growled. "Forgive my intrusion. I will leave you in peace, at this moment and for the remainder of your stay."

Shocked at his anger she stepped forward saying, "Thorin, what's wrong?"

Laughing bitterly he replied, "You dismiss me as if I am no more then a speck of dirt upon your boot then wonder at my wellbeing. Your arrogance and conceit, your selfish disdain for my feelings made me realize that you were the last woman in the world I could ever be prevailed upon to marry. Has this all been a game to you? Are the thoughts and emotions of those who do not share your immortality considered too fleeting to bear any importance? Because in my foolishness I believed," He faltered slightly, emotion making his voice thick, "your letters...that kiss."

Dumbfounded Lithôniel stared at him a long moment before replying quietly, "If this is what your true opinion of me is, thank you for explaining so fully. Perhaps these imagined offences you have laid against me might have been overlooked had not your pride been hurt by my honesty. Forgive me, Prince, for taking up so much of your time.." She tried to move past him.

"Imagined?! Honesty?!" Thorin sputtered grasping her arm as she passed, but the angry flare in her eyes caused him to drop the limb like he'd been burned. "Very well then, I wish you and that insufferable Elf with the rod up his jacksy all the happiness in the world living in your tree."

"Melcindómien? He is an Orc, rude and conceded, everything you apparently believe me to be." She rounded on him. "And how many Dwarven Maid's have lavished their 'attentions' on you as you put it. I am certain due to your new braids they have been falling all over themselves."

"I grew them for you!" He bellowed. "Once I learned you were returning to the mountain I grew them so that all would know it is you I desire."

Shocked she quietly asked, "You truly grew them for me?"

"Yes." He sighed running a hand over his face wearily, having lost his bluster quickly.

Tears filling her eyes at her foolishness she stepped forward saying, "Forgive me Thorin. I allowed shadowed doubts to plague my heart, but never again Melamin."

"Melamin?"

"My love." She explained. "I know I never expressed the words within my letters, I wished to speak them in person. I love you Thorin." She vowed kissing him softly. "Le melin."

"I love you too Lithôniel. Mahal I was so afraid when you asked me to leave." He confessed taking her hand. "I was fearful you no longer wished to spend your life with a Dwarf, making your home inside a mountain."

"It would not matter where we are, anywhere I go, I'm home if you are there beside me." She assured him. "You are like a spring morning pleasing my eyes, a midsummer's dream under a star soaked sky. That peaceful easy feeling at the end of a long, long road. You are my home."

Gathering her in his arms he pressed his forehead to hers breathing her in. She smelled of an intoxicating blend of wildflowers, wood and citrus. Reluctantly he drew back as he told her, "I have a meeting with my father and a few others I must attend. It should only last an hour. Then the rest of the day I am yours."

Nodding she gave him quick kiss and a small smirk, "I shall hold you to it."

* * *

An hour later Lithôniel stood within the King's Hall awaiting her prince. She had changed into her lavender riding cloths after Thorin had agreed to ride out on the plains surrounding the mountain. He also told her of a Park that was on the western side of the mountain. Apparently it was a large patch of forest that The Royal Family used when they wished to hunt for sport. The thought of such an act sickened her slightly but she knew Thorin did not wish for her to become homesick, so she had agreed.

"Lithôniel!"

Hearing her name the Elf turned just in time for two small objects to come barreling into her. Looking down she spied Fili and Kili grasping at her clothing talking excitedly over each other as they jumped up and down.

"Hello boys." She smiled warmly as she kneeled down and embraced them both. "How have you been? Staying out of mischief I hope."

At that the Dwarflings smiled sheepishly. But then Kili piped up, "Uncle Thorin says your staying almost a whole month!"

"He did?" She questioned feigning confusion. The children nodded eagerly. "Well he is correct." She gushed as Fili and Kili let out cheers of joy. "You haven't seen him have you?"

Almost as if he had heard his name, Thorin appeared. "Boys you have to stop running off. If you don't we won't be going anywhere."

"Awww." The boys bemoaned.

Giving Lithôniel an apologetic look he said, "Gwyra has come down with a sever cough and cannot watch my nephews. Dis has a dress fitting and a number of other responsibilities for the remainder of the day. I was the only one available to care for them. I hope that you don't mind..."

"Thorin." She smiled shaking her head as she stood. "Fili and Kili are a delight, I would be very happy if they were to accompany us."

"You are talking about MY nephews right?" Thorin playfully asked.

Playing along Lithôniel tilted her chin up and in a sarcastically haughty voice replied, "Indeed. Come along boys, adventure awaits."

Cheering for joy the Dwarflings each took one of her hands as they exited the mountain, Thorin walking beside them, a warm easy smile on his face.

* * *

"What is that one called?" Fili asked pointing to a medium sized tree with a thin trunk, it's branches heavy with pink blooms.

Lithôniel smiled at the young prince. During their travels across the plain he and his brother had asked her to name anything and everything they had seen in Elvish. Once they had reached the Park their questions had only grown.

"In the common tongue it is called Mountain Laurel. To my people it is known as Galadhwen." She answered plucking a small bunch to hand to Fili and Kili to examine.

"Your way sounds prettier." Kili said looking at the blossoms and picking the petals off a few of the flowers.

Chuckling she said, "They are my favorite flowers, if I were to ever have a daughter I wish to name her Galasriniel. Which means crowned in laurel."

"She would be our cousin right?" Fili asked. "When you marry Uncle Thorin."

Blushing Thorin hissed, "Fili!"

But Lithôniel smiled and asked, "Would you like if your Uncle and I married?"

"Yes!" Kili shouted happily, "You could teach me to use a bow. Plus you're super nice and very pretty, but not as pretty as Maamr."

Beside him Fili nodded excitedly.

"Well it seems it has been decided then." She chuckled looking to Thorin.

He merely smiled lovingly and took her hand as they continued their stroll.

"You can learn to use a bow." Fili teased Kili as they walked, "I want to use a sword like Uncle Thorin. A bow is only good if your enemy is far away."

"A bow can be used at close range if you know how to use it." Lithôniel spoke up. "And Elves do not use just bows, many of us prefer knives and daggers as well. They are much easier to conceal then swords."

"Really?" Fili asked slightly disbelieving.

"Really." She smiled. "How many knives do you think I carry on me at this moment?"

Looking her over he replied, "None?"

"Three." She chuckled at his astonished look. "One in my boot, one hidden at my waist, and" She drew her hand to her hair and removed what they had thought was an ornate hair piece, but turned out to be a long narrow blade. "one here."

"Wow." The Dwarflings marveled.

Chuckling Thorin looked to her with a mixture of pride and his own disbelief. "Come along boys, we should head back soon."

No sooner had he spoken then it seemed like the sky opened up and a downpour descended. Huge drops fell in sheets making it nearly impossible to see more then a foot in front of them. Grabbing his nephews Thorin made for a small cave he knew was near by. Reaching the cave he set down Fili and Kili and turned to assure himself Lithôniel was alright too but she wasn't behind him. Looking out of the cave he saw her standing where she had been, in the rain, arms outstretched, head tilted up as she spun about laughing.

"Lithôniel!" He called concerned.

Looking at him she stopped and walked quickly to the cave to take shelter with the Dwarves.

"What were you thinking?" He questioned harsher then he intended as he removed his coat and placed it around her shoulders. He became slightly irritated that she had refused his earlier suggestion to bring her own, the Elleth claiming it was much too warm for one.

"It is only rain." She told him, confusion lacing her voice in the dark.

"But it can still cause chills." He responded gruffly as he drew her to him and began to rub circles on her arms and back.

"Yeah I remember Eladda had the chills once and she had to stay in bed a whole WEEK." Fili spoke up, stressing the time spent idly.

Smiling to herself Lithôniel did not have the heart to tell them that Elves were incapable of becoming sick and therefore did not suffer from chills. So instead she allowed Thorin to continue his ministrations as Fili and Kili curled up beside them to share their warmth.

"I hate the rain." Kili bemoaned a few minutes later. "It means we can't play outside."

"But the rain is a good thing. It makes crops grow, rivers and ponds fill." Looking to the Dwarflings she knew they weren't convinced so she added, "It also makes puddles to play in."

"That's true." Fili brightened.

"But my favorite part about rain showers is just after it stops." Lithôniel told them.

Thorin spoke up, "Whys that?"

Smiling she replied, "I'll show you."

Looking out the cave entrance they realized it had stopped raining. Disentangling herself from the Dwarves Lithôniel rose and came to the opening, motioning for her companions.

"This is why." She whispered looking out at the soaked forest, "The short time when the rain stops and all is hushed. It is like a glimpse into the beginning of the world."

"I don't get it." Kili whined, his eyes big with the desire to understand.

"Come." She whispered taking their hands once more. "But you must be quiet."

Stepping outside of the cave she began to sing, her voice clear and melodic like a sweet bird song;

_"The rain has moved on_   
_And left a new day_   
_Hidden violets grow splashed with summer spray_   
_It's just a perfect day_

_The shadows and light_   
_That move with the wind_   
_Nothing seems to move everything is still_   
_Just another perfect day"_

As they walked with their mounts among the trees it was as if all the creatures stopped to listen to her sing. A female fox and her kits sat outside their burrow, heads tilted and ears perked, and the birds fluttered about lending their voice to hers. Even the trees seemed to bend and sway in time as if they were dancing.

_"_ _You can live a whole life_   
_In one tender kiss_   
_Let it just fade away_   
_All we need is this_   
_On such a perfect day_

_And all of this world_   
_Is for children who play_   
_Days that never end always should remain_   
_Another perfect day"_

* * *

Later after they returned to the mountain Lithôniel retired to her room with the promise to take a hot relaxing bath. Thorin had been adamant that she not immediately change for dinner before warming up first. And so nearly an hour later she emerged from a luxurious bath filled with lilac scented bath oils. Verya again helped her mistress into her plumb colored gown but just before she was able to fully tighten the ties at the back a pounding knock came upon the bedroom door.

Thinking it was Thorin come to collect her Lithôniel instructed, "You may answer it."

But as Verya opened the door it was not the Dwarven Prince who strode forth but Melcindómien, a look of rage twisting his flawless face.

"How dare you! Disappearing for hours with that Dwarf. You shame yourself and his majesty King Thranduil." He spat, towering over her in an attempt to intimidate.

Seething in anger she replied, "You forget yourself. The Dwarf has a name, it is Thorin. And we are guests within his grandfather's kingdom, a fact you would do well to remember. One word from King Thror could find you in his dungeons, locked away for years as my Tôrana seeks political negotiations to see you freed. That is if he deems it worth the effort." She sneered.

Eyes narrowing he spoke, "Do not attempt to threaten me Princess. Your Uncle has plans for our union and you would be wise to not discard them."

"I would sooner marry a troll. Auta miqula orqu." She spat.

"My Lady!" Verya gasped at the insult.

Chuckling mirthlessly Melcindómien quickly grasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger. "Attempt to cross me and you will find just how Orc like I can be."

Releasing her harshly he spun on his heel and exited the room, slamming the door behind himself.

Letting out a shaky breath Lithôniel looked to her Serving Elf, "Verya, please do up my ties. I suddenly find myself famished."

* * *

That night at the feast she nearly forgot the earlier confrontation she was so engrossed in the merry making of the Dwarves. Sitting beside Thorin she laughed and clapped as Dwalin and a number of other Dwarves engaged in a drinking contest. Much further down the table Melcindómien glared at everyone and everything especially the Dwarven Prince.

But if Thorin noticed he paid no heed as he took Lithôniel's hand in his own and asked, "You are well?"

Smiling at his concern she assured. "I am. The bath you prescribed did wonders for any lingering discomfort."

"A blessing then."

Chuckling to herself, she nodded and took another sip of the sweet red wine that had been provided for the Elves. King Thror had been kind enough to have many non meat dishes prepared for her kind. There were olives marinated in spiced oils with fresh cheese, roasted mushrooms, peppers and onions, as well as a wide variety of poached and preserved fruits.

"My Lady." Balin spoke up from her other side, "From our many past discussions I know you have a love of reading and wished to tell you, I have recently purchased a book within Dale containing a story about a young woman who is taken prisoner by a terrifying beast. But eventually discovering the creäture is in fact a prince she must save him from a terrible curse."

"It sounds like a lovely tale. Perhaps I could borrow it for a time while I am here?"

Winking the Dwarf drew a leather-bound book from his robes. "You may."

Smiling with delight she gently ran her fingertips over the cover. "Thank you Master Balin."

All further talk was interrupted though as King Thror stood and called for his gifts to be brought before him. Looking at him clap with delight as each group stepped forward to present their gifts Lithôniel couldn't help but smile at the childlike nature of the Dwarven ruler, for though he was rather old among his own race, he was like a child amongst hers.

"Princess Lithôniel," The King's voice interrupted her musings. "What souvenir have you brought from Mirkwood?"

Rising gracefully she presented, "Your Majesty, on behalf of King Thranduil and the Elves of Mirkwood, it is my honor to present you with this humble gift."

As she spoke the doors of the Great Hall opened and a group of ten Elves strode forth, a large statue being carried on a litter between them. It was of a life-sized stag, poised in mid-leap, it's antlers were of gold, and hooves made of bronze.

All around the hall had gone silent as they took in the sight of the life-like statue. It was Thror who found his voice first. In hushed wonder he spoke, "It is a wonder, tell me what is this stone is it carved from?"

"Marble, a large deposit of the stone was discovered a number of years ago within our eastern forest."

Nodding absent-mindedly the King commanded, "Music. And dance." His eyes though never left the statue.

As the musicians struck up a lively tune Lithôniel became seated once more but couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled within her watching The King Under the Mountain stare at his gift. Her thoughts were interrupted though when Thorin placed a gentle hand on her arm and whispered, "Excuse yourself in a few moments, then meet me at the Look Out within a half hour."

* * *

At the appointed time Lithôniel made her way to the mountain top, the sky above cloudless as thousands of stars shone above. Despite the peaceful nature of the night stillness, she sensed danger and had the hood of her cloak pulled up around her head.

"Lithôniel?"

Turning she saw Thorin coming towards her, a small lantern in his hand. The movement caught him by surprise and he let out a small gasp before saying, "I almost did not see you there. Are you cold?"

Shaking her head she replied, "No, though I appreciate your concern Melanin."

"Then why do you wear your hood raised?"

"Elven cloaks are designed to hide the wearer from sight." She told him.

Becoming concerned he asked, "What danger do you sense?"

Attempting to pacify her own secret fears as well as his she said, "It is Melcindómien. Before the feast he came to me, feeling angered and threatened by time I spent with you. He comes from a noble family, but he is cruel and uncaring. My Tôrana wishes for me to marry him but I want nothing to do with him, yet he continues to persist. "

"King Thranduil would force you to marry against your wishes?" He questioned softly, as if fearful of the answer.

"No. Because we live forever, our matches are made for love, but that does not stop my Uncle from trying to direct my affections towards those he deems worthy of them."

"And your kin in Rivendell?"

"Lord Elrond, my Tôrada, has given our match his blessing, but because my parents made their home within The Greenwood, my mother's brother holds the bulk of say upon such matters."

Taking her hand he lead her to a bench, once seated he vowed, "I will do what ever it takes for him to allow us to marry."

Chuckling softly she warned, "Do not allow him to hear you say that. You may lose half of Erebor's mines." Pausing a moment in thought she added, "However, there is a way we could wed without his blessing."

"How?"

Biting her lip she replied, "I would need to renounce my title as Princess of Mirkwood. I would be shunned by my kin and forfeit my dowry. It is not a substantial one by the standers of Dwarves or Men, but it contains my Adar's sword, my Naneth's jewelry, and a small chest of Mithril."

Clenching his jaw Thorin shook his head. "No Mizimel. I will not allow you to suffer such a fate. We shall gain his permission somehow."

"What does Mizimel mean Thorin?"

"It means jewel of jewels. For that is what you are to me Lithôniel, my ultimate treasure. They say every mountain has a heart, you are mine, my Arkenstone."

Tears of joy prickling her eyes she pressed her lips to his. The contact was sweet and chaste at first but quickly grew in hunger and passion. Growling deep in his throat Thorin gathered her into his lap as she tangled her hands in his hair. Grasping her backside in his large hands he pulled her closer still, but as she settled further into his lap she rubbed her hot center against the growing bulge in his trousers causing both of them to pause and let out a moan of pleasure.

"We should stop." Thorin groaned as he continued to place hungry kisses along her throat and jaw. "Tell me to stop."

"Never." She breathed pulling him even closer.

* * *

Later they lay spent in each others arms, Lithôniel's head placed above Thorin's heart, her fingers making light trails across his chest and abdomen. They lay upon her cloak, his blue fur lined jacked spread out over them.

"What are you thinking?" She asked lifting her head to look at him. "You are thinking it very loudly."

Raising an eyebrow he gave her a small grin, "I am merely wishing upon all the stars above that this night shall never end, and that I can keep you here forever."

Smiling she told him, "We Eldar perform such wishing during Melith en Gilith, the feast of starlight held at the start of Autumn. It is said if you wish for your love to be revealed upon the stars that night, you shall be led to them within the next season."

"And you believe such things?" He chuckled, kissing her forehead.

Teasing back she asked, "I was lead to you was I not?"

"True." He conceded.

"All light is sacred, but what we Elves love best is the light of the stars. We even pledge ourselves to each other upon Sadronniel. The constant star, faithfully standing fixed in the sky, to protect and guide. It is common for a couple to exchange an Evenstar when they pledge themselves to one another."

"An Evenstar?"

"A jeweled necklace. It is a piece passed from mother to eldest daughter, and while the design varies in each family, Sadronniel is always represented within the center. The one my cousin Arwen wears is ornate and takes its shape from a Lunar Moth, while Tauriel, my closest friend; hers is a simple design encircled by a pair of antlers."

"And yours?" He asked softly.

Eyes filling she shook her head, "My Ada wore it the day he was killed. He was part of a patrol chasing down an Orc Pack seen making camp near our northern border when they were attacked. Though he fought bravely, he was struck down and killed. His sword and body were recovered,  but the jewel was lost."

"If I were able I'd take on a thousand Orcs that it would be returned to you." He vowed.

Heart filling at his devotion she smiled assuring, "I have all I shall ever need with you. A heart full of love, that is what I desire."

"My heart is yours, always." He kissed her lips tenderly. "However, there is something I wish to give you." Reaching into the pocket of his coat he withdrew a pair of ornately crafted silver beads.

"They are beautiful Melamin."

"They were my Maamr's. They are betrothal beads. Once my grandfather gives our marriage his blessing I shall braid them into your hair."

"I shall wear them with honor and pride." She assured him softly taking the beads in her hand. "Because the women court the men in your culture does that mean I also have to gain the blessing of your eldest female relative?" She teased.

Chucking he shook his head. "No, though if there is a niece or nephew growing within you, Dis would take on your uncle without a second thought so we could be married."

"Thorin!" She chided untangling herself from his arms. Standing she shook her head at him as she reached for her dress and began to put it on.

Catching her hands just before she raised the fabric over her abdomen, he placed a soft tender kiss on her stomach speaking lowly, "I hope a child is within you Mizimel, that negotiations between our families be made all that much quicker."

Letting out a gasp at the simple reverence he displayed she confessed, "There will be children Melamin. I have seen it." At his questioning gaze she clarified, "I received a vision, one where we rule Erobor together, with a son and daughter as well as another on the way."

A smile of unmatched joy split his face as he let out a shout of joy and spun her around in his arms. "You see Lithôniel. everything shall work its self out."

Nodding she allowed his optimism become her own as they shared a tender kiss. They then began to dress, Thorin helping her with the ties of her gown, pressing his lips to the soft skin of her back as it disappeared from his sight. By the time he was finished, she had the extreme desire to tear the thing off again.

"I fear we must part here." Thorin told her taking her hand in his. "I would not have tongues set wagging that we were seen parting at your bedroom door so late at night. But know I long for the day when I shall fall asleep and rise beside you in my bed."

Nodding with understanding she placed a parting kiss on his lips whispering, "Goodnight sweet Prince. I too long for that day, would that I continue to say goodnight until tomorrow as not to be parted from you."

Placing a kiss on her hand he gave her a gentle push towards the mountain entrance. Nodding wordlessly gave him a small smile as she turned and reentered the caverns knowing tomorrow could not come soon enough.

* * *

The next morning Lithôniel awoke early and prepared herself with great care. She had Verya lay out a gown of silver and her hair was done in an elaborate style of looping and twisting braids throughout her locks as they hung down her back. The circlet upon her head was silver and decorated with four, hand-cut and fabricated oak leaves, and two ivy leaves which were balanced symmetrically within the design around a moon stone. Exiting the rooms she had been provided she gathered her courage and made her way to where she knew King Thror's study to be.

Reaching her destination, she instructed the guard outside the door, "Please inform King Thror, Princess Lithôniel wishes to speak with him."

Nodding briefly the guard disappeared into the room for a moment before reappearing. Holding the door open for her the guard said, "He has been expecting you My Lady."

* * *

 

The song I added is called Perfect Day by Miriam Stockley, though I changed the lyrics a bit to fit better into the story :)

Read and Review Please!


	4. First Test

I own nothing.

* * *

Bowing deeply as she entered, Lithôniel found Thror seated at his desk, a large brass scale, mountains of paper teetering precariously next to piles of jewels and coins stacked neatly covering the surface.

"Ahhh Princess. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company this fine morning?" The Dwarf questioned jovially.

Looking about she quickly saw that the King was alone, his many advisors and attendants absent. Realizing he had been expecting her for this very reason she inwardly smirked at his tact, but not wishing to tip her own hand she kept her face blank.

"'Quel amrun." She inclined her head coming to stand on the other side of the desk. "As I am sure you are aware, your grandson, Prince Thorin and I, have developed a close relationship. In fact, Hîr vuin, I love him. And he loves me. We wish for your blessing to marry."

Pressing his finger tips together Thror regarded her a long moment. "I am aware of feelings stirring between my grandson and yourself. I had hoped for a kind of friendship to develop between the future leaders of our kingdoms but this...this is truly unexpected. Though, if you complete the tasks...I see no reason why my blessing should be withheld."

"Tasks?" She questioned.

"Indeed. Three to be exact, to prove your worth to your future family. The first is to prepare a meal by your own hand for the family of your intended, next to fashion gifts. Made again by your own hand. The third shall be revealed once you complete the others."

Nodding she responded, "I shall complete any tasks you set before me."

"Good." He smiled. "Good I was hoping you would say that. But you must know, there are rules you must follow. Thorin can not help you complete any tasks, though you may ask any family member for assistance, only one per task. You also can not see or speak to him during the trial until it is completed."

"I understand."

Chuckling he replied, "Excellent. I look forward to a delicious meal this evening."

* * *

Exiting Thror's study, Lithôniel leaned against the wooden door and sighed heavily. She knew acceptance from The King Under the Mountain would not be as easy as one would assume it to be, but she hadn't factored in traditions of courtship. In her own culture an Ellon showered his lady with gifts of song, poetry and small offerings of flowers and handmade items, but it appeared in Dwarven culture grandeur was a large portion of the display.

"Lithôniel?"

Looking to her right, the Elleth spotted Dis, the Princess currently alone and looking slightly confused at the other woman's presence in The Royal Wing of the mountain.

"Good morning." She smiled slightly, trying to hide her overwhelmed feelings.

"And you as well. What business do you have with my grandfather this early in the day?"

Knowing she would hear of the matter soon enough Lithôniel answered, "I have asked King Thror's permission to marry your brother."

Staring open-mouthed in shock for a moment Dis finally replied, "Well...that...that's...wonderful I suppose." Shaking her head to clear the swirling thoughts she added, "I had suspected my brother's feelings for some time but was not fully sure how far they extended and if you returned them. I am glad to see that you do indeed care for my brother, though I wish I had been informed before this time."

Feeling slightly guilty at not including the woman who would soon be her sister, The Elf said, "I apologize, Thorin himself does not even know of me speaking to your grandfather yet. I had not realized there would be a set of tasks I must complete before I am able to gain the proper blessings. An ignorance I fear I am soon to pay for."

"You speak of the feast." Dis nodded. "You do not know how to cook?"

"Oh I do." At seeing the Dwarf woman's surprise she explained, "When Legolas and I were Elflings, King Thranduil did not wish to have much to do with us. To look upon us reminded him of the wife and sister he had lost. And so we were given over to the care of tutors and nannies and were often left to our own devices. We shared many of the same interests, archery, swordplay, horsemanship and survival in the wilds, but I discovered a love of cooking my cousin did not share."

Smiling Dis proclaimed, "The feast preparation, at least to those from a higher class, is less to do about the food itself and more to do with displaying the knowledge of how to organize and run a staff, though you are required to lend aid in at least part of the preparation of each dish. Come, let me show you to our kitchens that you may meet our Head Cook Rogan."

Nodding with renewed confidence Lithôniel followed her down the hallways to the kitchens.

As they walked Dis questioned, "You say your uncle did not wish to have much to do with you and your cousin when you were younger, yet from what I have seen and heard, he is now quite protective of you both."

Chuckling fondly the Elleth explained, "There was a time back when we were younger, that Legolas and I would dare and coerce each other into doing just about anything. One night we decided we would steal Belroch, my Tôrana's stallion, for a midnight ride. For awhile it all went well, the both of us taking turns doing tricks and racing through the trees. But then we began to argue over who's turn it was and we both climbed onto his back and began trying to push each other off. The shouting and jostling spooked Belroch and he bolted, Legolas and I holding on to each other and the stallion for dear life."

"How frightening!" Dis exclaimed.

"I fear it only gets worse." Lithôniel shook her head at the childhood foolishness. "Eventually we were thrown, the both of us landing, relatively unharmed, but Belroch continued to gallop on, leaving us behind. It was dark and we had no idea where we were, so Legolas and I huddled together under a tree and hoped we would soon be found. And we were, some time later by King Thranduil himself. When Belroch suddenly showed up outside the paddock saddled and without a rider it did not take long for our absence to be noted. My uncle looked like he did not know weather to yell at us or embrace us. And so he did both. We were confined to the place for nearly a month but we knew The King was both relived and gladdened by our safe return. The incident reminded him that like our mothers, we too could be taken from him, and ever since he has reminded us every day that he loves us. Though the intensity of that love can cause him to be extremely protective and over-bearing. As well as possessive at times."

"I wonder then, what his reaction will be when you inform him that you intend to pledge yourself to my brother." Dis smirked no doubt taking some pleasure in imagining the shades of red the Elven King's rage would cause him to turn.

Groaning Lithôniel replied, "I fear that not even all the gold in Erebor would save us from his wrath. But I care not, I would take on a dragon if it meant Thorin and I could be together."

Smirking Dis paused before a large wooden door, "Well, you just may get your wish my friend. For you are about to meet Rogan, and his temper is one to rival the beasts themselves."

As the door swung open Lithôniel was unprepared for the smoke and noise of the kitchen. Fires from stoves and the loud thumping of knives and clang of dishes permeated the space, but they were not to be over done by the shouts and calls of the workers seeking to be heard above the din. Throughout the large space work tables were set up, many Dwarves, all dressed in white double breasted coats with black trousers, were bustling about preparing different items and dishes. As she trailed along behind Dis, Lithôniel noticed many of the Cooks offered their Princess quick polite nods as they passed but none stopped to bow or offer lavish greetings. When it came to herself, the Dwarves offered only raised eyebrows or simply ignored her.

"Do not worry at their impoliteness." Dis spoke lowly over her shoulder as they passed by weaving through the space. "It is in their nature." Coming to a stop before a large table the Dwarven woman introduced, "Princess Lithôniel, may I present Rogan, son of Rhaego our Head Cook. Rogan, this is Lithôniel, princess of The Woodland Realm."

The Head Cook glanced up from the giant Round butchered from a cow he was cutting up to spare the women a fleeting glance. "A pleasure to meet you Princess, though as you can see I am busy preparing tonight's meal, so if you simply wish to tour my kitchen I fear now is not the time."

"We are not here for a tour. Lithôniel is undertaking tasks set by King Thror that she may marry my brother Prince Thorin." Dis informed.

Surprised the cook set down his knife and stared at her. "I had heard rumor our Prince's heart was claimed by an Elf Maid. Seems like for once the whisperings were true. So, the fact you are here means you must wish for use of my kitchen and staff. But even by Royal Decree I do not give over the reigns of command to just anyone."

Nodding Lithôniel asked, "What would you have of me?"

"Tell me Princess, what is the best heat intensity to have a sauce pan over when you add cheese to it?"

Smirking she answered, "One should never add cheese to a sauce over heat. It can cause the sauce to burn or break."

"How can you tell if an egg is fresh?"

"Fill a bowl with salted cold water and place the egg inside. If the egg sinks to the bottom and lays flat on its side, it's probably only four to six days old. If the egg were to sink, then stand up on it's end, it's more likely to be two weeks old. If you have an egg that completely floats, it should be thrown out."

"What is the best seasoning to use in a Nässelsoppa?"

Thinking a long moment she replied, "I have found that if one uses, good, fresh ingredients, salt and pepper are all the seasoning you need."

Smiling Rogan nodded his head, his beard of salt and pepper lifting into a smile around his lips. "Oh you'll do nicely."

* * *

That night Lithôniel found herself seated before her vanity as her Lady In Waiting brushed out her long hair and styled it into the customary braids and loose natural curls she normally wore. The day had been busy and long, chopping, sautéing, roasting and preparing the meal to be served.

Physically she didn't think she had ever been more exhausted due to the constant movement about the vast kitchen, but mentally she was sharp and on edge hoping all would go well.

After a brief discussion with the Head Cook the menu for the dinner had been decided. Due to the fact she was Elvish, she wished for the meal to reflect her cultural norms but still be palatable to Dwarven tastes. The next several hours had been spent preparing Creamy Tomato Basil Soup, Oyster Vegetable soup, a mixed green salad topped with fresh pears, grapes, goat cheese, walnuts and tossed in a dressing of balsamic vinegar and oil.

There was also giant whole fillets of Salmon cooked upon cedar planks and brushed with butter and dill, along with Trout seasoned simply with salt and pepper then roasted whole over an open flame. As well there was a enormous Sturgeon Rogan had allowed her to cut down into round steaks that had been grilled and would be topped with a mushroom and wine sauce just before serving. Along with the fish there was a summer vegetable medley that had been marinated and grilled, as well as steamed and raw vegetables.

Because it was against her people's nature to consume animal flesh, Lithôniel had almost not included any true types of meat. But she knew no Dwarven feast would be complete without it, so she had asked Master Rogan to secure a smoked pig for the meal though she refused to touch the animal. Due to the stipulations of her task though she had been forced to concoct a glaze made of maple syrup and brown sugar for the dish to be brushed upon the skin just before serving.

For dessert there were countless fruit pies and nut cakes to satisfy any lingering hunger.

Standing up she smoothed out her light blue gown before making her way from her bedroom to the Royal Dinning Room. Because this meal had been prepared for Thorin's family, they would not be dinning in The Great Hall but instead in the more intimate, private space reserved for every day meals of the ruling family.

Entering the room she found Dis and Rogan overseeing a group of Dwarves readying the room. Banners of silver and green were hung beside the blue and grey, golden plates and silver flat wear were laid out, and a large fire was already lit within the fireplace.

"Does the room meet your approval My Lady?" Rogan asked, eyebrow raised as he and Dis came to stand next to her.

Grinning she nodded and answered, "Indeed it does."

Over the last few hours she had gotten to know the cook and his staff very well. At first they had nearly walked all over her thinking her inexperienced and perhaps haughty due to her status. But she quickly proved them wrong and had rolled up her sleeves, tied back her hair and gotten to work right beside them, holding her own and earning their respect.

"Karin!" Rogan boomed looking at one of the staff members arranging the table settings. "What are you doing?! The goblets go on the right side of the plates, above the knives you idiot."

Chuckling Dis said in a low voice, "Our Head Cook really has a way with words doesn't he?"

"I have heard him say much worse for lesser offenses." Lithôniel smiled. And it was true, profanity had been the official language of the kitchen, with all the staff speaking it most proficiently in both the common tongue and Khuzdul. At first the harsh words had made her ears burn but eventually she had grown used to it and even let a few colorful words slip in Elvish. Much to the amusement of the cooks.

The pair shared a quiet laugh before Rogan returned and informed, "All the food is ready and prepared for service, we but await your command."

"My family will be here shortly, you shall present each course as it is served and tell of your part in the making of each dish. I wish you well Lithôniel." Dis assured taking her hand.

Hearing a large knock on the door the group all stopped and turned. Looking about at all the work that had been done and then back to the door Lithôniel took in a deep breath of courage.

"Let them in."

* * *

"Ugh, I will never eat again." Dwalin belched leaning back in his chair, a hand placed gingerly over his engorged stomach.

Chuckling as she took a sip of wine, Lithôniel replied, "I shall take that as a complement Master Dwalin."

"Oh you should lassie." Balin answered. "I must confess that I had my reservations when we were told this was to be a meal prepared by an Elf but you pulled it off my dear."

"Thorin if you do not marry that Elleth you are a bigger fool then I had ever imagined you to be." Dis teased.

Chuckling Thorin took Lithôniel's hand in his replying, "Well we all know how much I dislike proving you right."

All around the table they all let out a hearty laugh. Smiling at those gathered around Lithôniel felt a warm feeling stir inside thinking how such meals and gatherings with these Dwarves would become commonplace if all went well.

"There are still two more tasks that must be complete." Thror reminded, speaking around the last bites of his fourth slice of blueberry pie. "You must fashion gifts for each member of the family. Though given how much of our extended family currently is residing within Erebor, you may shorten the list to myself, Thrain, Dis and her sons, and of course, Thorin."

Feeling her joyous expression faultier she asked, "When must the items be complete?"

"Do not trouble yourself with it this night my dear. Take some time to think of what you shall offer, you are spending three weeks within our kingdom. Spend time with my grandson and the family. Get to know them and let them know you."

Nodding Lithôniel began to mull over possible options of what to present. Her thoughts were interrupted though when servants began to present the men with their pipes. Curiosity caused her to watch in slight fascination as they packed the bowls with pipe weed then proceed to smoke it.

Catching her intense inquiring gaze upon him Thorin questioned, "What is it?"

Biting her lip slightly she wondered if he would think her foolish for what she said next. "I have never seen one smoke a pipe up close. I saw a few Dwarves from afar smoke after feasts but when last I was here, something called me away just after dessert and I have never seen any of you partake while I have been in such close proximity."

"Aye lass." Dwalin nodded taking a puff from his own pipe. "We know Elves do not find pleasure in pipe weed or smoke so we did not indulge much while you were within our company."

"Would you like for us to extinguish them my dear?" Balin questioned.

Shaking her head she assured, "No, no. Please do not refrain on my account. In fact...if it is not too forward of me...may I..."

"You wish to try it?" Thorin surmised lifting a surprised eyebrow.

Smiling shyly she nodded. Handing over his pipe slowly, Thorin instructed on how to hold it and how to pull from the smoldering plant at the base. Taking the pipe in her hand, Lithôniel studied the wooden instrument as he explained how it was used. Placing the end of the tube between her lips she took a long draw inhaling it into her lungs.

For a moment she thought she had done it correctly but then a tight burning gripped her chest and she burst forth coughing and sputtering as smoke trailed from her mouth.

"You took too long of a puff." Thorin chastised gently, patting her back as she continued to cough.

Howling in laughter Dwalin choked out, "She's turning green!"

Giving the warrior a glare Dis rose and gently took Lithôniel by the arm. "Come with me. A little fresh air will do you better. Fili, Kili, behave while I am gone."

Exiting into the hallway The Elf took a deep breath of the clear air and after a few more sputtering coughs quieted down. Sighing she said, "Thank you. Sweet Eru that was awful. How do they stand that horrid taste and the burn of the smoke?"

"It is typically men who enjoy pipe weed so it is typically grown to be strong and pungent, but some versions are milder. We Dwarven women prefer to smoke Cheroots. They are small cylindrical sticks of cheroute, a much milder almost sweet type of pipe weed, wrapped within a dried leaf."

"Perhaps I might have been told before I tried to inhale that dragon's breath." Lithôniel frowned slightly.

Chuckling Dis nodded sheepishly. "Perhaps, but I thought it best if your curiosity be indulged."

Hearing the door open they turned and spotted Thorin exiting the Royal Dinning Room. His look was one of deep concern at seeing the two women still in the hallway.

"Is everything alright?' He asked.

Dis looked to Lithôniel for assurance, the Elleth nodding and confirmed, "I am well. Though I do not think it wise for me to return to the others. The smoke they have likely accumulated might cause another coughing fit. I shall bid them Goodnight from the doorway though."

Nodding Thorin drew the door open and stepped aside far enough for her to do so. Bidding goodnight to all those within the room she smiled tenderly as they evening farewells were reciprocated.

"Come along boys." Dis instructed her sons. "It is far past your bedtime."

"Just 5 more minutes?!" Fili whined.

"NOW!" Dis sternly ordered leaving no room for argument.

Sliding from their seats the Dwarflings grumbled softly between themselves as they made their exit. Coming to the door the pair lifted their eyes to the grown ups standing there.

"Goodnight Lithôniel. Goodnight Uncle Thorin." They spoke together.

"Goodnight boys. Sweet dreams." The Elf smiled down at them hugging them to her. Beside her Thorin offered a small smile as Dis took their hands and led them to their bedroom.

Taking her hand Thorin lead them both in the opposite direction, slowly climbing up through the mountain. They walked in silence both knowing where their wondering lead. Reaching the Look Out they released each other's hands, Lithôniel walking to the edge of the railing and looking up at the stars while Thorin remained where he was and watched her graceful movements in the moonlight.

Breaking the silence after a moment he asked, "Why didn't you tell me you were going to speak to my grandfather this morning?"

"I know I should have talked to you first but I wanted to surprise you. I didn't realize I would have to complete these tasks. It is so different from my own people's traditions." She told him lowering her gaze from the heavens to look at him slightly guiltily.

"I had told you before there are traditions and rituals that must be met before we would become betrothed. Along with the tasks your kin must also pledge themselves to mine, to lend whatever aid necessary when they are called upon."

"Our kingdoms already have an alliance Thorin." She reminded coming to stand beside him.

Sighing impatiently he said, "I'm not talking about an alliance between kingdoms Mizimel. This pledge ties our families to one another for all time. From ourselves to our children to their children and so on."

"Oh, I did not realize. I am sorry Melamin, truly." She apologized touching his cheek softly.

Letting out a long breath he replied, "What's done is done." Kissing the hand upon his cheek he then took it in his own before leading her to the bench near by. "Tell me of your own courting traditions."

"They are not so grand as yours." She smiled seating herself comfortably beside him. "An Ellon will write poetry and songs for his Lady, they are usually about her beauty and his longing and love for her. There is also gifting of flowers and small gifts such as perfumes, carvings, or something of that nature. For those of more noble birth sometimes there is the bestowing of jewelry, gowns or even horses."

"Have you ever received such attentions before?" Thorin asked jealousy clouding his voice.

Smiling softly she placed a quick kiss on his lips before answering. "I have once. When I was barely older then an Elfling. His name was Lindir, a kind, quiet Ellon. He wrote me a sonnet comparing me to a summer's day." She smiled fondly. "I was flattered by his attentions but there was no spark about him, no magnetism that would draw my eye and presence to him within a crowded room. Also he did not come from a high ranking family and would not meet the approval of my Tôrana. He is now Steward of Lord Elrond's house within Imladris."

"I wonder then at King Thranduil's reaction when I shall ask for your hand." Thorin wondered bitterly.

Taking his hands in hers she heatedly assured, "I do not care if our union meets his approval Melamin. I wish to be with YOU. There is also the fact you are a prince, a direct descendant of Durin himself to sway my Uncle. But I don't care about gold, or nobility, or even what others will think. You are my life, A'maelamin."

Smiling softly he gave her hand a squeeze. "Then we shall take on all of Middle Earth if we have to. For I do not know if you have heard Meril, but we Dwarves tend to be greedy and selfish. We do not share what we consider rightfully ours. So someday soon you very well may find yourself trapped here, forever locked within my embrace."

With his final words he crushed her in his arms and devoured her mouth with his lips. Pulling her onto his lap he let out a grunt of satisfaction as her hands tangled into his hair tugging gently. Moving his mouth to her jaw he placed tender kisses there before moving on to her pointed ears loving how sensitive the flesh there was and the little noises that escaped from her when he paid loving attention to them.

Gathering her last coherent thought Lithôniel pledged, "I am yours Thorin. Now and forever, come whatever may."

* * *

I know in stories like this a lot of people do a kind of "first drinking" experience like Legolas had in Two Towers but again, I'm trying to make this as unique as possible :)

Read and Review Please!


	5. Gifts From The Heart

I own nothing.

* * *

A few days later Lithôniel found herself out in the sunshine amidst an ocean of wildflowers. The air was still cool but the sun was very warm; summer was not far off. Lifting her face into the bright golden sunshine, she let out a contented sigh. In her one hand she loosely held a small ax, in the other a toy bow crafted from a Yew branch. Beside her lay a small toy dagger and carving knife.

After careful consideration she had decided to craft a bow for Kili and a knife for Fili as her gifts to Thorin's family and the requirements for her current task. Early that morning she had gone to Dwalin seeking the tools needed and then had made her way to the Park beside the mountain to seek suitable wood for her needs. She had decided to start with the Dwarfing's gifts first, knowing the toys would be relatively easy to make. Now, despite their current crude look, they were nearly complete, she would simply need to add a few finishing touches.

Though most Elven bows were beautifully ornate in their design, she knew Kili would likely soon out grow the toy so she would add simple designs, most likely she would add oak or ivy leaves to the upper and lower limbs. The arrows she had yet to craft, but they would be slightly blunted as to not cause harm, but sharp enough to stick into a target.

Fili's toy dagger had been more of a challenge then she had first thought. Crafting the wood to a blunt quarter-inch edge to make the toy safe nearly caused the wood to split, and the process would have had to start all over. But luckily the wood held and was shaped into an elegant yet deadly looking piece, just like a real Elvish dagger.

Hearing the sound of pounding hooves, she quickly stood up, her own bow readied within the blink of an eye. Looking down the shaft of her arrow she realized the approaching rider was Thorin, a surprised yet smug look on his face.

"I could have killed you." She chastised lowering her weapon.

Edging his pony closer he chuckled, "You would have tried."

Rolling her eyes she quickly gathered the toys, hiding them from sight in a leather pack she had brought along. After she placed Dwalin's tools on the belt looping her hips over the green dress she wore. It was very similar to the guard uniform of her dear friend Tauriel though Lithôniel's had silver detailing about the collar.

Placing the pack upon her shoulders she said, "You should not be here. We aren't supposed to see each other while I am completing the trials."

"Traditionally, yes. But little about our relationship has been one of following traditions." He smirked eyebrows wriggling, sunlight glinting off his jet black hair.

Huffing at his innuendo she began to walk away saying, "Still I would not give those who would oppose our marriage any justification to claim it invalid."

Nudging his pony to keep pace with her he teased, "Then how about a challenge?"

"What kind of challenge?" She asked stopping and looking up at him, slightly interested yet wary.

"A race back to the mountain. If you win, I agree to let you complete the second task in peace. But if I win," He smiled mischievously, "You spend the rest of the day with me."

Looking over Thorin and his pony carefully Lithôniel considered his terms. All Elves were fast and nearly tireless, and most could keep pace with a galloping horse. Yet Thorin must have some trick up his sleeve to honestly think he could beat her.

Finally deciding she nodded and took off running. She heard him shout in surprise about her cheating, but she soon could not hear him over the rush of the wind in her ears. All around the scenery blurred into a rush of indiscernible shapes and streaks of color. Behind her she could hear Thorin and his pony Mithril gaining. Speeding up she came to a small crest and turned facing down the Dwarf trying to run her down. Planting her feet and bending her knees she swung herself up into the pony's saddle behind her Prince as the animal overtook her.

Grabbing the reigns from Thorin's surprised hands she placed a quick kiss on his cheek saying, "I shall come to you tonight. Do not seek me out until then."

With that she dumped him out of his seat and urged the pony on leaving the stunned Dwarf behind.

* * *

After returning Mithril to the stables, Lithôniel made her way to the armory searching for Dwalin to return his ax and knife. But instead she met Balin who informed her that his brother was down in the forges having an ax blade repaired. Thanking her friend she exited the armory and made the decent deeper into the mountain.

As she wondered though it did not take her very long to realize she was once again lost. But this time there was little chance of anyone stumbling upon her for quite some time. Beginning to feel panicked she turned down a corridor that seemed familiar but as she continued walking she eventually found the passageway was a dead end.

But something about the end of the passage seemed strange. Finding a tinder box she kept within her pack, Lithôniel lit one of the torches she could discern in the low light. Once the space was bathed in more light she realized that what she was standing in front of was an altar or shrine of sorts. There were numerous candles, small silver cups, pouches of pipe weed, and other small offerings placed carefully about the large flat stone. Above the offerings sat twelve pictures of Dwarven men, all varied in age and look but her eye was captured by one in particular. He had a kind face and gentle smile, his beard was not very long or extravagantly braided and filled with adornments, but the hair above his lip was braided neatly and hung to his chin where it was secured by a pair of beads.

Touching the picture gently she wondered why the Dwarf seemed so familiar. Yet she knew she should not disturb this place or linger, whatever this was, it held great sadness.

Turning to go, she was surprised to hear someone coming down the corridor. Walking quicker she called out, "Hello? Is anyone there? I seemed to have lost my way-"

"Lithôniel?"

"Dis." The Elf sighed with relief seeing the Dwarven woman before her, a small lantern in her hand. "Thank Eru you found me. I was attempting to make my way to the forges, but got turned around some how."

"Down this corridor, third left then the fifth right, first staircase down then third left." The Dwarven Princess instructed pointing to a passage to the left.

"Thank you." Lithôniel smiled. But just as she was about to leave, she took in Dis' appearance. Her form was devoid of all jewelry, her dress was of heavy black velvet and she carried a small basket on her arm. Becoming curious and concerned she asked, "Dis, why are you down here if I may ask?"

"To honor my husband." Came her reply as she began to walk down the corridor. "I am certain you found the memorial that was built for those lost in the cave in."

Realizing why the Dwarf in the picture seemed familiar, Lithôniel was saddened to discover that he was Fili and Kili's father.

"He came from a family of some of the best miners in all of the Seven Kingdoms. They were born with a sense of where the best and most beautiful gems lay, where the greatest deposits of gold lay hidden." Dis continued, her voice far off in remembrance. "Our marriage was looked down on by some, for he was not of nobility, but we loved one another completely. I continue on for our sons, but a great part of myself died that day. He was my One, just as you are Thorin's. I thank Mahal that my brother has taken on a fatherly relationship with the boys, I do not know where I'd be without him."

"He was trapped, your husband." Lithôniel surmised, feeling slightly stupid for stating the obvious and unsure of how to comfort her friend.

But Dis merely nodded. "For weeks my husband had urged the Mining Chancellor to close the shaft, claiming the rock was no longer safe. But the gold and gems brought up from there were too great a temptation and he refused. Then came the day that the digging going on met with an abandoned carven above this one and both collapsed on those inside. Twelve families lost husbands, brothers and fathers that day, even more lost friends and loved ones. Because there was so much rubble and unstable rock no one was able to retrieve them, and so this is the only comfort we have been granted. "

Taking a small black stone out of her basket she held it up, offering it to Lithôniel and saying, "He gave me this, when we first got married. A promise, set in stone can not be easily broken. It is a tradition among out people. "

"What do the runes mean?" The Elf asked looking at the simple writing.

"To you I will always return." Came the reply in a sad chuckle. "I was always worried about his safety down in the mines, so he made me this. Every morning he would place a kiss upon it, hand it to me and kiss me goodbye. But I know one day he will come back to me, the day I join him in the halls of our ancestors."

"The way you speak of him shows him to be of a good heart, I am sorrowed by your loss." Lithôniel handing back the stone and placing a hand on her shoulder as they reached the shrine.

Managing a smile Dis embraced the Elleth. "Thank you. There will be many who oppose your marriage to my brother, but know there are many more you may count as allies. You make my brother happier then I have seen him in a very long time and you will make a fine queen someday."

Smiling tenderly Lithôniel turned and allowed her friend to mourn in peace.

* * *

Reaching the Forges it did not take the Elven Princess long to find Dwalin amongst the furnaces and workers bustling about.

"Master Dwalin." She greeted the huge Dwarf. "Many thanks for lending me your ax and knife."

"Ahhh, I still believe a bow and Elvish knife are not good gifts to give Dwarvish Princes." He replied not looking up from the ax he was sharpening.

Smiling slightly at his attempt to brush her off she said, "My thanks anyways. Though I am in need of a smaller carving knife, one for intricate details."

Looking over a table nearby she spotted a small blade not much larger then her palm length, picking it up she cheered. "I have found one."

"Lass, that's a toothpick."

Surprised Lithôniel looked at the blade in her hand then back to Dwalin who now watched her movements, searching his face for any trace of a jest but his face remained remotely blank.

"Well, perhaps I shall fashion a holder for it and present it to you when I am finished." She teased.

Dwalin let out a grunt of a chuckle before returning his attention to the ax in his hand. He worked in silence a moment before belting out, "I hope, for your sake, you are not playing with Thorin's emotions. Because Princess or not, you shall have me, and many others to contend with. He claims you are his âzyungâl, his One."

"Master Dwalin, you should know me better by now. I love Thorin. While we Eldar may be more...free in our relationships we never hide behind false pretenses. We love but once, so it is considered to be the utmost cruelty to play with the emotions of others in such a way." She assured him. Stepping closer she asked, "I have heard that I am Thorin's One twice this day. What does it mean?"

"For every being created, there is a match, a companion of their soul. The One that makes them complete. Some go there whole lives searching for their One and never finding them. But once such a match is found, it is impossible to break, if a pair is separated by distance or death, a half-life is lived until they are reunited."

Lithôniel nodded replying, "Like Dis after her husband left this world."

"You know of Vili?" Dwalin asked surprised. Dis rarely spoke of her son's father.

"I became lost on my way here and stumbled upon the memorial created for him and others lost."

Dwalin nodded, the pad of his thumb scraping lightly over the sharped edge of the ax blade. "It was a dark day for the entirety of Erebor. Kili never got to know his father, and Fili will likely only ever have vague childhood memories."

"You may be surprised how much a child can remember. At least they have Thorin to care for them and be as a father."

"Aye. Family is the center of our culture. Parents would gladly lay down their lives for their children without hesitation. All Dwarf mothers are fierce, yet you would find Dis among the most ferocious, for her sons are all she has left of her husband. They are her life's meaning."

"Her ghivashel." Lithôniel supplied.

"Treasure of treasures, yes." Then realizing she had spoke the Dwarven language he looked at her sharply demanding, "How do you know that word?"

"Thorin. He's taught me a few words, endearments mostly. And a curse or two."

Dwalin narrowed his eyes for a moment then he warned, "You would do well to be careful who you speak our language in front of. There are those who deem it great insult for any but a Dwarf to speak it, and many consider it a greater insult when it is spoken with a clumsy tongue."

Nodding with understanding, Lithôniel suddenly smiled as an idea struck.

* * *

"Hello boys."

"Lithôniel!" Fili and Kili cried dropping the toys they were playing with and rushing to her. The young Dwarflings were currently in their nursery under the watchful gaze of Gwyra.

"Have you finished our presents?" Kili asked hopefully, looking behind her back and all around.

Chuckling she replied, "No dear one, though you shall receive them soon." At seeing the children's looks of disappointment she added, "Though I could use your help with your mother's gift."

"What can we do?" Fili asked excitedly.

Drawing out the 'Toothpick' she had taken she asked, "I'd like a small lock of both your hair. I shall braid them together to be made into a necklace for her."

"I fear I must forbid it!" Gwyra intervened placing herself between the Elf and the Dwarflings. "No one but family and close friends are permitted to even touch a Dwarf's hair. And the Princes are mere children, to cut their hair without permission from their mother would be a gross assault on their person."

"Lithôniel is practically family." Fili piped up, arms folded across his small chest. "And she is one of our best friends."

Beside him Kili nodded, looking to his brother and quickly copying his pose. Lithôniel could not help but smile fondly at the pair with a mixture of tender love and deep pride, Fili already had the makings of a great and fearless leader, and Kili would forever be his loyal companion.

"I shall only take a small piece, from the back where it shall not be noticed." She assured the tight laced Nurse.

Huffing Gwyra through up her hands and went back to the chair she had vacated and took up a pair of small trousers she was repairing for her charges. Kneeling down, the Princess carefully and gently cut small locks of the Dwarfling's hair at the base of their necks.

When she was done Kili asked, "What else can we do?"

"You have helped me as much as is allowed I fear." Lithôniel assured them, tucking the locks of hair into her bag. "I hope to have all the gifts complete within two days time."

Fili and Kili looked disappointed but nodded none the less. "Will you play with us?" Fili asked.

"I wish I could, but I must continue my task. Though perhaps tomorrow if I am able." Placing a kiss on each of their heads she rose bidding farewell.

* * *

Three hours later Lithôniel was exiting the workshop of Dasil, Master Jeweler of the Royal Family. When she had first approached the Dwarf with her idea he had nearly thrown her out, seeing locks of Prince Fili and Kili's hair within her hand. But once she had hastily explained herself he had calmed down enough to listen. Lithôniel informed him that in Elvish culture, a lock of a child's first growth of hair was always kept for good luck.

And so, she wished for a pendant to be made, with the Dwarflings hair woven together in a checkered pattern and pressed between pieces of glass to be preserved forever. Once she was finished Dasil had seemed impressed and intrigued, saying that Dwarven parent's love and devotion to their children would likely cause the piece to become a staple for every family to own.

And so a setting had been selected, one of simple yet elegant scrollwork design around the edges for the amulet to be placed in. Lithôniel, under the Jeweler's guidance had placed the piece together and though it was simple, she was vastly proud of the piece.

After the necklace was finished Lithôniel returned to her room to finish the carving of Kili and Fili's gifts. The bow was relatively easy, using the 'Toothpick' heated over the fire within her fireplace she etched ivy and oak leaf detailing into the wood. She then sealed it with tung oil before stringing it.

Fili's knife was even simpler. The design was finished, she merely etched an ivy design along the hilt of the toy and sealed the wood as well. Looking at the items she felt something was missing. Nearly every Elf had a name for their weapons, though many were not commonly known to the world, leaving a weapon un-named was considered unlucky and it was feared that it may fail it's owner in combat.

So, reheating the blade, she etched names into the blade of Fili's dagger and the grip of Kili's bow. Once finished, she stood and stretched. Around her, Verya and the other serving Elleths stood as well.

"A tray of food has been brought my lady. We knew you likely would not wish to be disturbed, so we left it upon the table." The Lady in Waiting informed.

Smiling in thanks she replied, "You may retire for the evening. I shall eat then likely spend much of the night reading or thinking of gifts to bestow on King Thror and Thorin. Has Tauriel sent what I have asked yet?"

Nodding Verya confirmed, "Yes, I had it placed upon your bed."

"Thanks you Verya. Quel du."

"Quel esta." The Serving Elleths bowed before exiting.

Once they left, Lithôniel lifted the cover of the tray and smiled at the simple yet delicious smelling meal. There was a bowl of soup made from potatoes, cream, and green onions. There was also a large plate of steamed summer vegetables. For dessert there was a Dwarvish version of Strawberry Lembas cake.

Chuckling Lithôniel remembered when she told Rogan of the dessert favored by her and Arwen. This version was denser and heavier then she was used to, but it was still a treat and gladdened her heart that those within the mountain would go out of their way to make her feel welcomed and valued.

Finishing the meal she stood and smoothed out the fabric of her peach colored gown. For a moment she thought of calling Verya back to help her change into one of her purple dresses, she knew how much Thorin loved seeing her in the color, saying it brought out her eyes. But to do so would arouse suspicion, so she let it be and exited her rooms, anticipation and joy making her steps light and giddy.

* * *

"How old are you?" Thorin asked softly, not daring to look at her, fingers playing with the midnight blue blankets on his bed.

Confused, Lithôniel lifted her head from where it lay on his chest. As soon as she had met him at his bedroom door, Thorin had pulled her to him and ravaged her mouth and body, letting her know without words how much he had missed her that day. It was surprising, yet wonderfully comforting to know how much he could not get enough of her. They had been intimate every day; sometimes more then once a day; since her return to the mountain, yet each time was just as passionate and full of need as the last.

Letting out a surprised chuckle she sat up and asked, "Really, to ask a lady such a question?!"

Thorin chanced a look at her then as he raised himself as well. The emotion in his eyes nearly caused her to flinch away, they were so filled with sorrow and uncertainty.

"I am 1,923 years old." She told him softly touching his arm. Beneath her fingers she felt him stiffen. "Thorin, what is it?"

Chuckling darkly he removed his arm from her hold and responded, "I must be a mere child to you. I am barely 65."

"65." She breathed shocked. In the years of the Eldar he was a child, a babe more like. Not even to the middle of his infancy.

"There have been moments that I forget that I am a Dwarf and you Elf kind. You are older and wiser now then any of my kin will ever be."

Smiling tenderly she took his hand and placed it on her cheek. "I may be older then you Melamin, but to both our races we are very young. Nearly the same age. Why are you bringing this up now?"

"Dwalin and I were sparing this afternoon and a group of your guards were using the targets at the opposite side of the Training Cavern. Melcindómien was with them."

Lithôniel clenched her jaw to keep herself from launching curses at the Ellon. Not noticing her anger Thorin continued, "They were talking about how anxious they were to be home in the Greenwood. Then Melcindómien spoke of how he was looking forward to being back amongst Elvish company. He all but called us children and wondered at how you enjoyed being here so much. It caused me to wonder...to...doubt."

"Thorin." She breathed placing her hand on his chin and turned his face to hers. "What ever happens, whatever any one says, do not doubt me. Do not doubt this." She kissed his lips softly. "By the will of the Valar, we shall spend our lives together. And when you travel from this world to the Halls of your ancestors, I shall except the Fading and follow you there."

"Fading? Lithôniel, no-" He tried to rebuke.

Silencing him with a kiss she whispered, "I would rather share one lifetime with you, then face all the ages of this world alone."

Tenderly he took her face in his hands and kissed her, their lips moving lovingly together as they sank back onto the bed.

* * *

"It's time! It's time!" Kili celebrated jumping up and down, his dark hair falling in his face.

"Yes little one." She smiled at the Dwarfling and his brother who danced about her trying to peek at their gifts.

The small company was gathered in one of the private royal parlors, a table was set up with the gifts which Dis, Lithôniel and the boys stood beside. Across the room Thorin and his father watched them from beside the fireplace.

Sighing, Dis couldn't help but smile at seeing her sons so happy. "Boys, we must wait for your Great-Grandfather."

"I am here my dear." Thror announced striding into the room, the door closing behind him. "Well go on, let the lads have their gifts." He instructed Lithôniel, laughing as he sat in a large overstuffed chair.

Handing the children their gifts, she was surprised at the ferocity at which they tore open the packaging.

"A knife! Wow." Fili smiled turning the wooden toy over in his hands.

"A bow! And arrows." Kili exclaimed holding up the weapon and three projectiles. Rushing over to his mother he showed the items saying, "Look Maamr. Look!"

"Yes darling." Dis smiled. "Thank Lithôniel, do not forget."

Smiling Kili belted out a quick "Thank you!" before knocking an arrow and seeking a potential target.

"What do these markings mean?" Fili asked tracing the Elvish letters with his small fingers.

Smiling Lithôniel kneeled before him and gently took it from him. "It says, Raudithen. It means Little Lion. For that is what I think of you as."

"What about mine?" Kili asked realizing his toy held markings too. Coming beside her, he handed over his bow.

Handing back Fili's knife Lithôniel took the bow and said, "Rácasírëvelui. Sweet Otter, darling Kili."

Smiling both boys embraced her, she placing gentle kisses on their cheeks as they thanked her again. Standing once they released her she strode back over to the table where the wrapped gifts were laid out and picked up a small box made of black onyx and inlaid with ivory.

Handing the box to Dis Lithôniel smiled nervously as she opened the lid. Taking out the pendant Dis let out a gasp, her eyes flying to her sons, no doubt recognizing the color of the strands. Wordlessly she then turned her gaze and stared at the Elf, her mouth hanging open.

Worriedly Lithôniel stumbled, "Dis...I.."

But she didn't have time to say anything else as Dis enveloped her in a crushing hug, tears in her eyes. "Thank you." Was all she managed to choke out.

Once she was released, Lithôniel handed a thick leather-bound book to Thrain. Opening the pages, the eyebrows of Thorin's father rose as a smile etched itself across his scarred face.

Very few outside of the royal family knew it, but the Crown Prince had an unusual hobby, at least for a Dwarf. He pressed flowers. Lithôniel had once been bringing back an armful of blossoms to her room she planned on pressing herself when she had passed Thrain who commented on the flowers. They had spent the rest of the day discussing types of flowers, ways of pressing them, and designs they had created and seen. Once her second task had been set, Lithôniel had sent a letter to Tauriel asking she send a book she had made of plants that grew exclusively within the Greenwood to gift to him. Taking the book he settled into an armchair nearby.

Moving on to Thorin she smiled lovingly as she handed him a small stone. It was purple and brown, with flecks of dark blue. "A promise, set in stone, is not so easily broken." She spoke softly.

Turning the stone over in his hand he read the script written in Tengwar, the lettering glittering in gold."When the last star burns out, and the moon shines no more.  
When the ocean turns it's back on the shore. When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east and the mountains blow in the wind like leaves, I will still love you."

Eyes misting he smiled brightly at her before kissing her hungrily. Forgetting where they were, she kissed him back with equal vigor. It wasn't until Thror cleared his throat loudly that they returned to themselves. Dis and her grandfather chuckled at them while Fili and Kili made vomiting sounds. Thrain was too engrossed in his book to notice the pair.

Smiling sheepishly Lithôniel stepped away from her love to stand before the King. Smoothing out the fabric of her gown she began, "King Thror, when last I was welcomed in your halls you spoke of a desire to hear the music of my people within them. I wish now to fulfill your request. The song I shall sing was one my cousin Arwen and I wrote in remembrance of Lúthien and her love Beren."

Thorin took a seat on one of the couches next to Dis while Fili and Kili sat on the floor comparing their new toys. Stepping into the center of the room she began to sing,

_"The day we met,_   
_Frozen I held my breath_   
_Right from the start_   
_I knew that I'd found a home for my heart..._   
_... beats fast_   
_Colors and promises_   
_How to be brave?_   
_How can I love when I'm afraid to fall?_   
_But watching you stand alone_   
_All of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow_

_One step closer_

_I have died everyday waiting for you_   
_Darling don't be afraid I have loved you_   
_For a thousand years_   
_I'll love you for a thousand more_

_Time stands still_   
_Beauty in all she is_   
_I will be brave_   
_I will not let anything take away_   
_What's standing in front of me_   
_Every breath_   
_Every hour has come to this_

_One step closer_

_I have died everyday waiting for you_   
_Darling don't be afraid I have loved you_   
_For a thousand years_   
_I'll love you for a thousand more_

_And all along I believed I would find you_   
_Time has brought your heart to me_   
_I have loved you for a thousand years_   
_I'll love you for a thousand more..._

_I'll love you for a thousand more..._

_One step closer_

_I have died everyday waiting for you_   
_Darling don't be afraid I have loved you_   
_For a thousand years_   
_I'll love you for a thousand more_

_And all along I believed I would find you_   
_Time has brought your heart to me_   
_I have loved you for a thousand years_   
_I'll love you for a thousand more"_

When she finished the room was silent for a long moment, then the room erupted into thunderous applause as the Dwarves stood and cheered. A little while later a light supper was served in the parlor as the small group was joined by Balin and Dwalin. Smiling mischievously Lithôniel slipped the 'Toothpick' into one of Dwalin's pockets, the fierce warrior sending her a playful wink letting her know he knew.

Taking her seat next to Thorin, she couldn't help the warm swelling in her chest as he took her hand in his and brushed his lips reverently over her knuckles. The radiant smile and unrestrained joy in his eyes caused her to question if she had ever felt happier then she had in this moment.

* * *

The next morning Lithôniel was summoned just before dawn to King Thror's study. Once again she stood in front of his large oak desk as he pressed his fingertips together, staring at her with a long level gaze. The time spent in silence was beginning to make her feel nervous.

Finally he began to speak, his voice monotone yet commanding. "Lithôniel, daughter of Solorfainiel, Princess of the Woodland Realm, two weeks ago you came before me and asked for the right to court my grandson, Thorin, Prince of Erobor. And so far two tasks have been set before you." His mask of indifference slipping he let out a chuckle and hearty grin. "And you have passed both beyond all expectation and cause of doubt."

The Elleth allowed herself a small smile, yet she sensed he was not finished, so she remained silent.

"However," he continued, "there is still one task you have yet to complete. In order to be successful this will need to be handled with tact, and respect, and no small degree of charm." He smirked at seeing Lithôniel's confusion. "Your third task is to convince your uncle King Thranduil, to give his blessing and allow you to marry Thorin."

* * *

Thank you to all those who have been reading and following along! I know it seems like its been forever since I updated, but in my defense: I blame getting caught up reading other people's awesome Hobbit Fanfics, temporary writer's block, a bit of laziness/exhaustion from how busy I've been at work, and I've also been wanting to transfer my other stories over here.

I now so far this story has been a bit fluffy, but fear not, serious drama is on the horizon ;)

Anywhoo...

Read and Review Please!


	6. Torn Asunder

I own nothing.

* * *

Gently untangling herself from Thorin's sleeping arms, Lithôniel let out a discontented sigh as she slowly slipped out of bed and pulled on a night dress and ran her fingers quickly through her hair. It had been two days since Thror had tasked her with gaining King Thranduil's permission to marry the Dwarven Prince, and there was barely a week left before she would be forced to depart Erobor to do just that. Despite how much she would miss Dis and the boys, Balin and Dwalin and everyone else she had met within the mountain, the thing that tugged at her heart the most was fear. Fear that once she told her Tôrana that she was in love with a Dwarf she would be forbidden to see him ever again, that she would become a prisoner in a guiled cage.

But she tried not to let such thoughts cripple her, so instead she decided she would need all the help she could get to receive Thranduil's blessing. She would write to Tauriel and Legolas about her plight and beg their assistance. As she sat at Thorin's desk she felt a little guilty for keeping her feelings for him a secret from her cousin and friend. It was the first time she had kept anything from them.

Picking up an ink well that sat on the table top she discovered that the jar was empty, so pulling out one of the drawers in Thorin's desk she scanned it looking for paper and ink. Instead there was a silver jewelry box. She knew she shouldn't be snooping in Thorin's things but the curiosity of what could be in the box was too great. Carefully lifting it from the drawer she set it on the desk top. Once she did she felt herself give a little breathless gasp.

The box was a work of magnificence. The intricate scroll work on the base was a marvel and it stood on four small squat legs. The top was covered in scroll work as well with a beautifully carved daisy at the top.

"You have found your gift."

Turning, Lithôniel spotted Thorin watching her from the bed. She had been so engrossed in her examination of the box she hadn't noticed the change in his breathing to signal he was no longer asleep.

For a time she had watched him sleep, marveling at the strength and kindness in his face as well as the hard lines of his muscular body. The muscles of his chest were well defined and were sparely covered in hair that became thicker as it radiated from between the base of his pectoral muscles. The hair thinned into a line as it traveled down his stomach, through a chiseled group of six mountains of muscle until it came to his navel where it widened once more. In sleep he usually had one muscular arm wrapped around her waist holding her to him, while the other rested either on his chest or hip, thick fingers splayed across his warm flesh. Lithôniel felt a tightness clench in her lower stomach remembering what those thick fingers and strong hands were capable of.

Blushing slightly she made to place the box back saying, "I wasn't trying to snoop. Honestly. I was searching for ink and paper to draft a letter."

"Hmmm." He answered as he swung his legs over the bed and pulled on his discarded pants. Coming up behind her he gently grasped her hands before she closed the drawer and took the box out once again. "This wasn't the way I wished to present you with this Mizimel." He kissed her head, then her lips tenderly before placing the box in her hands.

"Its beautiful Melamin." She breathed tracing her hands over the lid.

Chuckling he told her. "That isn't the gift I meant. Though I'm glad you like the box it comes in. Open it."

Doing as she was told she lifted the lid and let out a gasp. Inside laying on the blue velvet lining was a medium sized pendant made of mithril. It was in the shape of a large forge hammer, the handle crafted of knotted metal which extended into the head of the hammer ending into the heads of a pair of ravens facing away from each other, one with an amethyst eye and one with a sapphire. But the thing that caused her eyes to water was the formation of five stones at the base of the handle. A star was formed by stones so beautiful and flawless they shone with a light from within.

"Thorin." She managed to choke out.

Kneeling before her he spoke softly, "You had said among your people an Evenstar was exchanged along with small handmade gifts. I was hoping...that because yours had been lost... that this could be ours. But if you don't like it, if it's too Dwarf-like-"

Cutting him off with a kiss Lithôniel assured "Its perfect. Thorin you made this?"

"Yes." He smiled proudly, fingering the delicate chain. "I am better at crafting weapons but every Dwarf is passable at jewelry making. The shape is called The Hammer of Mahal. It is a symbol of strength, honor, power, and craftsmanship worn only by Dwarven royalty."

Running her finger gently over the pendant she said, "You have included our ravens. The ones we used to send messages."

"They also represent us. That our children, and their children after will know our story by wearing it."

"What are these jewels Thorin? I have never seen them before." She asked touching the shimmering stones.

"We call them gimlilukhûd, or star lights. They are a well guarded secret, found only in Erobor. I had to gain my grandfather's permission to use them."

Smiling she kissed him tenderly and assured. "I shall wear it always, with greatest pride."

Chuckling happily Thorin took the necklace from her and placed it around her neck, pressing a kiss to the skin once it was in place. Gently running his fingers through her hair he commented, "You are not sleeping. Were our earlier activities not enough to tire you?" He smirked.

Smiling she shook her head. "Our 'activities' were not lacking in any way Melamin, but we Eldar to not sleep like other races. We rest our minds and bodies by thinking upon beautiful things, but our eyes remain open. If you were ever to come upon one of my kind eyes closed and unmoving, if they are not dead, they are within a healing sleep. Our bodies enter a deathlike state that enables us to heal from nearly any injury or aliment, but we are also at our most venerable."

Thorin was silent for a long moment, his brow crinkled as he processed this new information of his beloved's people. "Huh." Was all he could manage. Walking around the chair he grasped her hand and placed a kiss on it before saying, "I should return you to your room, before you are missed."

Nodding slowly Lithôniel gently ran her fingers over the pendant around her neck before rising and placing sleeping robe around herself as Thorin pulled on a shirt and his own sleeping robe. Exiting his room Thorin took her hand laced his fingers through hers as they made their way down the deserted hallway. Taking a shortcut through the mountain they soon passed the treasure room. The sight of all the gold and gems had always been impressive when she passed by, glittering in the torchlight. And yet as an Elf, Lithôniel held little care for the possession of such material things.

But as they continued past the doorway she caught sight of someone moving about the piles of coins and jewels. Concerned she stopped short causing Thorin to pause as well. After a second though she recognized the figure, it was King Thror. Confused as to why the King was in the treasure room so late at night, she turned to Thorin to ask but his look gave her pause. His body had gone ridged, his jaw clenched, yet his eyes were concerned and sad.

"Thorin?" She questioned softly.

"He shouldn't be down here. His guards...where are they? They should take him back to his rooms." The Prince ground out looking about distractedly.

Placing a gentle hand on his arm Lithôniel allowed her eyes to silently ask what was troubling him.

Sighing, Thorin obliged.

"All Dwarves have a love of precious metals especially gold, and gems. We mine for them, craft them, and in many ways covet such things. It is who we are, what makes our kingdoms rich and strong. But there is also a dark side to these passions. There are times...when in the presence of a seemingly endless supply of gold, that a sickness develops. A madness. We call it the Dragon Sickness, for like a dragon, those afflicted covet gold with a dark and fierce desire. It takes over until all that is left is a lust for gold, and you are left but an empty shell of your former self."

Gently taking his hand Lithôniel assured, "Thorin, your grandfather loves you. He may have lost his way for a time but the care and devotion he feels for his family is still there."

"But for how long?" He whispered brokenly, clearly distraught.

"That I can not answer Melamin."

Thorin nodded sadly and removed his hand from hers. Lithôniel felt her heart clench at his pain wishing there was something she could do to ease his troubled soul. As they continued walking she retook is hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze but he did not seem to notice, for he was too lost in the worries swirling around his mind. Their journey to her door was nearly completed when a voice emerged from the darkness.

"So this is the Elf every one has been talking about."

Turning the pair soon spotted a male Dwarf emerging from a connecting hallway. He was younger then Thorin, with golden hair and short beard.

"Frerin." Thorin stated, surprise evident on his face. "You have returned from The Iron Hills."

Lithôniel looked from one to the other slightly confused. Thorin had told her that his younger brother had been visiting the other Dwarf clans, as was customary of the young royals, to form good relations between their people.

"I returned early. Once I heard my brother had decided to take an Elleth as his bride I simply had to see such lies and slander squashed. It seems for once the rumors were true." The younger prince drawled as he brazenly looked Lithôniel up and down.

Hearing him sucking in a deep breath, it was easy to tell Thorin's temper was quickly rising so she simply laid her free hand firmly on his arm. Looking up at her, Thorin's hard eyes softened slightly and he nodded at the soothing smile she gave.

"Mizimel, this is Prince Frerin, my younger brother. Frerin, I present my One, Princess Lithôniel of Mirkwood." Thorin introduced.

The blond Dwarf's eyes widened at the introduction but the rest of his face remained impassive. "I am pleased to meet you Princess, though I suspect any further talk and attempts to become familiar should wait until morning. It is rather late after all." A knowing smirk formed on his lips as he looked at the pair.

"He is right Melamin." Lithôniel conceded unsure yet as to whether or not she liked or trusted Frerin. "I shall see you in the morning."

"Goodnight and pleasant rest." Thorin spoke softly before placing a searing kiss upon her lips. It was deep and passionate, as well as perhaps a bit too intense to occur in front of his younger brother. But if her love felt he had something to prove to the younger Prince, then she would gladly indulge him in such a way.

Giving him one last gentle press of her lips against his Lithôniel stepped back and smiled brightly at Thorin before turning and opening the door to her chambers. Before she had closed the barrier the entire way she heard Frerin remark,

"At least she's pretty. For an Elf."

* * *

"Is it true?" Tauriel asked eyebrows raised and a mischievous smirk.

Lithôniel looked up from the letter she was writing to her friend sitting crossed legged on her bed. "Is what true?"

"You know. Is it true that Dwarves have a telchnelya?"

"Tauriel!" She gasped laughing. "I do not see how my betrothed's 'third leg' is your concern."

Smirking the fiery haired Elleth quipped, "So it is true."

Lithôniel gapped at her friend a second before a laugh bubbled out of her throat. She bit her lip to keep more from escaping, yet a smile still broke through.

Letting out a excited squeal Tauriel jumped up from the bed and perched herself on the desk corner cheerfully demanding, "You have to tell me everything."

The princess was just about to give in and tell all when the bedroom door opened and Legolas came into the room, his face purposely impassive yet a nervous anxiety hung about him.

"Lithôniel, my father wishes to speak with you."

Instantly the Elleth's smiles disappeared. Looking at each other then back to Legolas the Princess asked, "What about cousin?"

"He would not say, merely demanded your presence at once." He replied on edge. It was clear whatever the King wished to see her about, it clearly sent him into a raging temper.

Twisting her hands in nervous anxiety Lithôniel nodded before following him out of her room and into the hallway. Before she exited though she looked to Tauriel silently asking her to wish her luck. The King's Ward inclined her head showing her hopes of an easy and lenient audience with their ruler.

Each step to King Thranduil's private office caused her heart to sink lower and her stomach to feel heavier and heavier. Lithôniel knew the cause of her Tôrana's anger must be great to make her normally mischievous and joyful cousin so on edge and subdued. Once they reached the heavy wooden doors both of them took deep breaths of courage before entering the room.

"Lithôniel. Sit down." Thranduil commanded as soon as the door closed not looking up from the papers upon his desk. After a moment that seemed to stretch on for hours he continued. "It seems you have made quite the impression on King Thror. He has written saying how he vastly enjoyed your company and presence at his birthday celebrations. Also that your interest in and respect of Dwarven culture is...how did he put it? Ahh yes, 'refreshing and heart lifting to find in one so young especially an Elf."

"His majesty honors me with his praise." She replied carefully.

Slowly moving from behind his desk the Mirkwood King replied, "That he does. He spends nearly the entire front of the parchment upon your beauty, wit and charm. However, it is what is contained towards the end of the letter that concerns me." At this Thranduil's voice became low, and dark. "He congratulates me on your betrothal. To his grandson Thorin. He even offers a bride price of six large chest of gems, gold and unworked stones. While generous, it would seem the rumors of King Thror's madness are true. I have little notion of how such a preposterous idea came to be in his mind but I fear I must send a return message immediately to clear away such illusions. And there is the matter of returning the gift he sent." At this he gestured dismissively to a ornate silver box sitting upon the edge of his desk. Right away Lithôniel recognized it as a companion to the box Thorin had made for her in which the Evenstar he crafted had been laid.

Clasping her hands tightly together she replied, "There are no illusions Tôrana, I am betrothed to Prince Thorin."

"That is preposterous. You have not exchanged rings." Thranduil's nostrils flared in anger.

"By the customs of his people we are."

Voice deepening he started to stalk around the desk. "You foolish selfish child. Do you have any idea what you have done?! You would cast your lot with a Dwarf yet look upon Melcindómien with nothing but distain when it is he who can offer you-"

"Offer me what? I do not love him! I will never love him. Tôrana, through the centuries I have followed nearly every command you have given me because I have known in my heart that it was because you wished to look out for me and my well being." She began to tear up slightly and her voice became thick with emotion. "But you can not ask me to do this. I would die with out Thorin. I love him with all my heart and soul. De melin."

"You think this... Dwarf can love you?!" The king spat the word as if it left a bitter taste. "His life is but a blink of an eye for us."

"I know he can. He does." She shot back as she stood defiantly.

"Ada," Legolas spoke up for the first time. "I believe that the Price truly does care-"

Turning an accusatory gaze on his son he demanded, "You knew?! You knew and did nothing! You let our family become a mockery. I will not stand for it! I will not tolerate such insolence from my own kin!"

With that he swept his hands across his desk sending papers and other items flying. The box from Erobor fell to the ground with a thud, the lid opening and the contains from within spilled out. Thranduil looked down sharply and took in a long gasping breath. Upon the carpet of his office lay a belt of starlight.

"What is this?" He marveled lifting the item with careful reverence to examine it closer.

"The Dwarves call them gimlilukhûd. Star lights. Thorin told me they are a well guarded secret, found only in Erobor, permission from King Thror must be granted before they are crafted into any item." Pulling out the pendant that her love had crafted she added, "Thorin used them to create an Evenstar for me."

The king glanced at the necklace for a moment but then turned his gaze back to the belt in his hand. The entire band was covered in rows of the sparkling stones, the buckle was crafted of mithril.

"Such beauty." He murmured, the light of the stones reflecting off his dark eyes. "You are both dismissed for now. There is much I must consider."

As Lithôniel turned to follow her cousin from the room she spared one last look to her Uncle, and what she saw disturbed her. The king wore a look of pure covetousness, much the same as the look she had seen Thror wear when he gazed upon his horde of gold.

* * *

The palace of Mirkwood was a whorl of activity as servants packed trunks and closed off rooms. Cloths were pressed and folded, personal treasured were stored and placed away for safe keeping. Many of the Princess' Ladies would be staying in Mirkwood, as she would be provided with Dwarven Ladies from the court in Erobor.

While many of her faithful companions bade her tearful farewell, Lithôniel could not wait to put The Greendwood behind her. Melcindómien had enjoyed attempting to torture her with false prophecies of "The Dwarf" locking her away in his mountain, never to see the light of the stars or walk among the forests. Lithôniel knew that denying such things would only encourage his actives, so she had ignored him in hopes of dissuading his interests. Unfortunately, this had only fueled his displeasure and the Ellon had instead turned to boasting how once Thorin was dead King Thranduil would likely send for her to be returned to her people, and thus she would become his wife; as she should have been all along.

It had been nearly a year since she and Thorin had exchanged their silver rings and soon, though not soon enough for her liking, they would be traded for the golden bands of marriage. While she did not know the exact Bride Price Thranduil and Thror had agreed upon, Lithôniel knew it must include the white gems that the Elves had come to call Silmaril. But, according to her Tôrana, when the Bride Price was to be handed over as promised, Thror refused claiming that not a single jewel would leave the mountain until Lithôniel had provide the Line of Durin with an heir.

To say that King Thranduil was enraged at the deceit was an understatement. Relations between Mirkwood and Erobor had become tense and strained the last few months. Old prejudices and mistrust that had begun to wear away was growing back twice as thick, much like a choking ivy.

Giving her rooms a final once over Lithôniel sighed and touched the gem upon her throat. The gems clicked against the silver band on her left hand and yet the sound was ominous, not comforting.

Suddenly a great shout tour through the palace and running feat echoed through the hallways. Concerned, Lithôniel exited her rooms to see what was going on. She didn't get far though, for Legolas met her steps outside of her door, his eyes panicked and wild.

"Ieltîrada, you must go. My Father is sending you to Imaldris."

Fearing the discontent between the Dwarven and Elven kingdoms had turned to physical confrontation she plead, "Why? What is wrong?!"The

The Prince responded gravely, "A dragon. Erebor calls for aide"

* * *

Though her surroundings in the gardens of Imladris were peaceful and full of tranquilly, Lithôniel could not shake the feeling of unease clawing at her insides. It had been nearly a week and no word had reached her on the fate of the mountain and it's people.

Taking a steadying breath in through her nose and exhaling through her mouth she tried to return to the book within her hands. After reading the same line nearly a dozen times she closed the book with a defeated snap and let out a disgusted sigh.

Looking about wondering how to alternately occupy her time, she spotted Lord Elrond coming towards her.

"Good afternoon Tôrada." She greeted.

He did not respond a first, merely gazed down at her, a look of sorrow filling his dark eyes, his mouth downturned and shoulders slumped. Lithôniel for her part could not form any words at seeing her Uncle in such a state. Many questions and worries swirled around in her head but the possible answers and revelations that were yet to be revealed caused her throat to become clogged and thick with emotion and unuttered words.

Slowly Elrond seated himself down on the bench and took her hands in one of his, the other he placed gently on top. Though he tried to hide it behind a stoic mask, concern and sadness radiated from his face.

"Lithôniel. There is something I must tell you. Erobor, has fallen."

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I am so so soo sorry for how long this update has taken. I blame lack of motivation and the disappearance of my creative Muse. But, after seeing Battle of the Five Armies tonight, said Muse has returned.

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	7. The Years Between

I own nothing.

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Words could not describe the empty pain in Lithoniel's heart. Silently she sat upon her bed and stared at a purple stone flecked with blue in her hand. Gold letters stretched across its surface, but the words they formed had since proved meaningless and empty.

The Mountain kingdom of Erebor had been lost, and so too apparently was any hope of marrying the one she loved. Upon her return to Mirkwood King Thranduil had informed her that Thorin and the survivors of the dragon’s attack had come to their lands. But the prince had not asked of her beyond retracting his proposal and returning the stone she had gifted. Apparently though he’d had enough gall to ask for aid from her uncle after paying her such insult. According to her uncle Melcindómien had wished to challenge Thorin to a dual to defend her honor but the king did not wish to cause her further heartache from the Dwarf’s death.

Lithôniel had of course not believed a word of it until Thranduil had handed her the promise rune stone she had crafted for Thorin. The stone had become a symbol of their relationship as much as the Evenstar Thorin had made for her. While it was customary for Elves to give back the silver betrothal rings if an engagement should be broken, Lithôniel knew that the silver was worth more than a pretty purple stone and could easily be sold for supplies and weapons.

With a mournful sigh she rose from the bed and strode towards her vanity where her jewelry box lie. Within it she had placed the Evenstar after she had removed the necklace at the start of her mourning. Elves, like Dwarves and men wore black with few to no jewelry or adornments during the time of grief, so with a heavy heart she had placed the piece in the box while still in Imaldris as a sign of respect to those lost to the dragon. But as she lifted the lid, the bright sparking pendant was not upon the red velvet.

With a cold, sickening feeling she came to realize, she had been lied to and betrayed.

* * *

 

Today had to be the day. Careful planning had all lead up to this moment, when Lithôniel would leave Mirkwood behind, possibly forever, to be with her love. Shoving the last of her provisions into a knap sack she knew the fluttering in her lower stomach was not nerves, but a miracle, a child. Her and Thorin’s child. Somehow she knew that it was a daughter and her mind’s eye conjured a bright happy little girl who was the apple of her father’s eye. And do doubt Fili and Kili would be delighted to have a cousin to get into all sorts of mischief with.

Realizing she had allowed too much time to pass daydreaming Lithôniel quickly shouldered the supplies and gave her rooms a final once over. She had left notes to Legolas and Tauriel telling them that she was leaving as well as her reasons for not saying a proper farewell. She also wrote that she hoped they would forgive her one day and visit should they be able to. To the king she merely had written a formal decree that she was renouncing her title as princess, as she should have done long ago.

Taking a fortifying breath Lithôniel stepped out to the edge of her windowsill and looked down. It was a long drop, maybe 80 feet. But steeling her heart she jumped and began to fall down the great distance. About halfway down she removed a knife from her waist and plunged it into the bark of one of the great trees that made up the Mirkwood palace. The friction of the blade slowed her decent somewhat but in no time she was on the ground.

Replacing the knife she warily made her way through the passageways and out into the stables. There was no one about so she easily snuck her way over to Hérion, her beloved horse. The stall was large and the tack she used was already stored within so in no time at all her horse was saddled and the pair were gone.

Racing through the forests Lithôniel could hardly believe the feeling of freedom she felt. Letting out an excited laugh she allowed herself to once again hope that all would come to a happy end. The first day headed east passed without any trouble, but then her path required her to travel south beyond the borders of the Greenwood into territory held by vile creatures. Some years ago, large siders had begun to migrate north from this land into the Elven kingdom. Lithôniel herself had killed a number of them with Legolas and Tauriel so she knew to be wary of them and their giant webs.

Luckily she merely traveled another day through the dark wood before coming to the edge of the forest. Deciding to take a rest she sat beneath a large tree and placing a hand upon her growing child she sang a sweet lullaby and softly told her of her father, promising they would be together soon.

But then she began to sense a dark presence watching her. Rising quickly she drew her knife just in time to slash across the abdomen of a large brown spider nearly the size of her horse. As if the act were a queue five more spiders materialized from the surrounding trees. Slashing and hacking at the arachnids it was soon down to her one the size of a cow. Chopping off one leg then another she quickly flipped over the beast and sliced through its large thorax killing it. But then out of nowhere sprung a jet black spider with a red hourglass making upon its back. Springing at the Elleth it buried its poisonous stinger into her abdomen.

Letting out a cry of pain Lithôniel stabbed the spider still wrapped around her body in each of its eight eyes. Once the spider was a twitching heap at her feet she placed a hand to the stomach. Drawing it away her fingers were quickly covered in dark blood. Calling Hérion she let out a strangled moan of agony as she drug herself into the saddle.

“An ngell nînedraith de nestad.” She whispered before passing out.

Nodding with understanding her horse galloped though the forest at breakneck speed, though he kept ever vigilant and mindful of his beloved Lady.

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Sometime later a young stable hand had just finished cleaning out the stalls of the royal stables when a large buckskin gelding came barreling into the yard, Recognizing it as the princess’ horse he shouted for the Stable Master. Rushing from the Farrier next door the Master immediately spotted the princess barely holding onto her seat in the saddle. Her face was ghastly pale and had a grayish tint to it.

“Someone get the Healing Master!” He shouted, gently taking the princess from the saddle. “You!” He called to the hand who had first spotted the horse and rider. “Alert the King.”

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“How is she? Will she live?”

The old Healer looked up from his collection of potions and books of medicine to the King standing on the other side of his desk. Some may have been unnerved by how calm and distant Thranduil seemed when asking about his niece’s welfare, but the Healer had known him since he was a young Ellon scraping his knees and getting into childish mishaps. The cold façade masked turbulent emotions beneath.

“She will live, though the wounds are likely to heal slowly. I have given her a drought to help her sleep. It should wear off within a few hours. However, I fear the child was lost to the spider’s poison.”

 “Child?” Thranduil questioned, shocked.

Hurriedly the Healer explained, “Forgive me your majesty, I thought you knew. The Princess was with child. Likely four to five months as best I can tell. It would have been a girl.”

The king merely nodded, stunned. Turning from the desk he gazed into the room where Lithôniel lay eyes closed, hands at her sides. He barley registered the Healer patting his shoulder comfortingly and telling him he is welcome to sit with her until she awoke.

In a daze he took a seat in a chair beside her bed and gently held her hand in his. Over 1,000 years ago he had made his dying sister a promise, to look after and protect her only child. So far he had done a horrendous job. Gazing at his niece he silently renewed that vow as he kept constant vigil, watching the color slowly return to her face.

After what seemed like a hundred years her eyes began to flutter, and then opened.

“Lithôniel.” Thranduil breathed, grateful beyond words as tears of joy formed in his eyes.

Groggily she looked around the room. “Where am I?” She questioned. Then as her eyes focused on him, she let out a scream. “No! Stay away!” She tried to roll away from him but the movement caused her to let out a strangled groan. Placing a hand upon her stomach she cried, “Why can’t I feel her? What happened to my baby?! What happened to Galasriniel? What did you do to her!?” She screeched. Becoming frantic she wailed “Why did Hérion bring me back here? I would have been better off left in the forest.”

Concerned Thranduil tried to reach for her again but at his movement she began to beat at his arms and chest with her fists screaming “Stay away! Go away I hate you! Nin gwerianneg! “

At the noise the Healer and his attendants came bursting into the room and hurried the King out into the hallway.

“Ada!” Turning Thranduil spotted Legolas and Tauriel jogging towards him, identical looks of fear and worry on their faces.

“We have just returned from our search my lord.” Tauriel explained. When Lithôniel had gone missing all available guards, soldiers and trackers had been sent out to try and find her. “How is she?”

From within the room of healing Lithoniel’s screams of protest still rang out as the master tried to force a sedative potion down her throat.

“A fever burns and causes her to lash out at those trying to help her.” Thranduil informed flatly attempting to squash the heart-wrenching pain of his niece’s words and reaction.

“And the child?” Legolas asked hesitantly.

Realizing that Lithôniel must have left his son and ward letters explaining her departure he silently cursed himself for not realizing his niece was missing sooner. If he had he may have spared everyone much pain.

“The child was lost.” The King answered. “The spider that attacked her pierced her stomach. It is likely the child died instantly from the poison.”

Tauriel let out a sobbing gasp and covered her mouth with her hand in shock and tears began to fall as Legolas held her tightly to keep her upright. Thranduil’s eyes flashed at the intimacy but he said nothing. Such a thing was a concern for another time.

Harshly the King commanded, “I will no longer tolerate these beasts on our land. No guard nor soldier is to return to the palace until every one of the foul abominations is destroyed. Am I clear?”

“Yes my lord.” Tauriel assured calmly though tears still streaked down her face.

Legolas nodded as well. “You have my word Adar, none shall see another sunrise.”

“Good. Now see it done.”

Bowing quickly the pair left The House of Healing to seek their revenge. As they disappeared the Healer exited the Princess’ room.

“She is resting my king.” He informed gently. “Yet I fear the pain of loss may cause her to start fading. The loss of a child, the rejection of her husband…”

Sharply Thranduil glared at the old Elf snapping, “That Dwarf”, he snarled, “is not her husband. Few still follow the old ways of celibacy before marriage any longer and I would not have her tethered to any who could not provide for and protect her.” Losing his verbosity he added, “There must be something you can do. A salve, a potion, anything. I cannot lose her as well.”

Feeling his heart go out to the King he proposed, “There is one potion, you must understand, it will not stop the fading. But it can slow it down. However, I warn you, it has side effects. The mind of those it is administered to is often muddled and sluggish, often forgetful. As well, if it is taken over long periods it can cause physical pain in the patient if not administered regularly.”

Knowing he was desperate and seeing no other option Thranduil conceded. “Do it.”

* * *

The sound of warriors preparing for battle outside of his tent grated on Thorin's nerves. The banging and clanging echoed in his head making his meditative preparation nearly impossible. A year had passed since the fall of Erebor and Thror had decided it was high time the Dwarves reclaimed Moria from the Orc scum that held it, and the rich veins of Mirthil within.

Sighing he ran a hand over his weary face. Continuing down to his chin, Thorin's fingers slowed to stroke the braided beard still hanging from bellow his lips. It seemed like a lifetime since he had seen or spoken to his One and his heart mourned with every beat. He had sent countless letters secretly to Lithôniel using their ravens. None had ever been answered. Despite not wanting to believe it true, time and distance caused him to believe she had forgotten him, forgotten their love.

Knowing his survival of this battle depended on a clear head and full focus he made a heartbreaking decision. Removing a knife from his belt he grasped the braid in his other hand. Taking a deep breath he twisted the knife upwards along the curve of his chin, shearing off the braid. Letting out a choking sob he stared at the braid a second before he tossed the hair into the flames of a fire pit with the center of his tent.

"My prince?"

Swiping angrily at the tears running down his cheeks he didn't turn before demanding, "I wish to be left alone."

"I simply thought you could use some distraction." The sultry female voice breathed.

Turning Thorin spied a female Dwarf draped across the entrance of his tent. Her dress was cut low, her ample bosom spilling out over the fabric, leaving little to the imagination. The outfit was also sleeveless despite the wintery chill in the air and the strong heavy scent of her perfume already permeated the small space. If Thorin had doubted her intent, it was laid to rest when he took in her hair. It was clear her locks were usually a dark chestnut but streaks of bright gaudy red tinged them mahogany. There was only one class of Dwarves that adorned their hair in such a manner, prostitutes. Red was the color of passion and so the most effective way to advertise was in their hair.

Though Thor had issued command that no non-warrior women be allowed within the army’s encampment it was clear some had disregarded such restrictions and snuck in.

For a long moment Thorin stared at her, his heart screaming at him to tell her to leave. Her hair was all wrong, the dark contrasting with the reddish brown of artificial dye. And her eyes were common brown, not an exotic and hypnotic violet. Again his better judgment demanded he listen. That this whore would be a poor substitute for the only one he would ever truly desire, and should he ignore the warning what few pieces of his shattered heart that had been regained would likely crumble once more with the shame. And yet, in the dying sun on the eve of battle he could perhaps pretend that he wasn't drowning inside.

* * *

 

It had been one tough week, and Thorin was dead on his feet. A new mine had been dug, but thanks to their lack or resources in The Blue Mountains, part of the shaft had collapsed causing much of the work and progress that been achieved to be for naught.

But, the exiled King had made plans for tonight. Whenever he was feeling overwhelmed he always knew just what to do and how to make it right. To him, it seemed like such a thing was needed forever, so tonight he would allow himself a night to remember.

Dimming the lights he made sure to lock the door to his bedroom, then sitting upon his bed he slid open the top drawer of his night stand. Removing the false bottom he took out a small silver box covered in delicate scrollwork. Opening the lid, he spread the contains on the floor. Pictures, dried flowers, a Mirthil necklace with blue and purple eyed ravens set in a hammer. Sitting among these treasures Thorin allowed the dust to be blown off of the past and let it all come flooding back.

A beautiful maid with haunting violet eyes, a musical voice and laughter like bird song. He remembered stolen moments of passion, hot as a forge flame and full of desperate need.

Taking up each piece and holding it with careful reverence Thorin took stock of the memories he knew by heart. A crude wedding card Fili and Kili had created for their Uncle and would-be Aunt with a picture of the happy couple and their soon to be family on the front. A dried crown of laurel he himself had crafted for his Lady to be worn on their wedding day. There was also a large heavy silver ring. Then, there at the bottom was a drawing of her. His One. At the time Thorin had praised the artist who had sketched the image for how realistic and detailed it was, but now it made his chest constrict and fingers twitch, longing to reach through the paper and stroke her cheek, kiss her lips.

While he knew he could not continue on like this forever, Thorin would allow himself one more night. One more night to remember. And so he leaned his head back against the edge of his mattress and did just that.

_"Thorin that tickles."_

_The Dwarf lifted his head removing his lips from the inside of her wrist. "I did not know Elves were ticklish." He teased._

_Lithôniel who lie upon a large blanket on the forest floor gave him a knowing smirk and replied, "Some are. In certain places."_

_"Truly?" He continued to jest. “I did not think Elves capable of laughter and merriment."_

_Reaching up and placing her hand gently on his cheek Lithôniel responded. "And I did not think Dwarves capable of such tenderness. Yet here we are."_

_"Indeed. Here we are." He smiled lovingly before kissing her on the lips._

_After a moment they parted slightly, just a breath away. They stayed that way another long moment before an owl's hoot broke the moment._

_"That's Legolas." The Elleth sighed. "I must return."_

_Reluctantly withdrawing Thorin silently cursed their relative's stubbornness. Due to a stalemate between the Kings of Erebor and Mirkwood communication and visits between the couple were strictly regulated and few and far between. But that did not stop the pair from sneaking off together._

_Sometimes they only had a day or a few hours together to meet. This time however it had been nearly a week, Thorin claiming to be on a hunting trip while Lithôniel was supposedly on a scouting mission with her cousin. As he bade his lady love farewell, how could he have known it would be the last time he would see her?_

At the thought of losing Lithôniel, his memories turned to his meeting with King Thranduil after the fall of Erebor.

_"Please King Thranduil. My people are starving."_

_"Are they?" The Woodland king asked, sounding extremely bored. "One would think with all the jewels and gold in that mountain of yours you would be able to at least feed your own people."_

_Taken aback Thorin stared wide eyed at the Elf's complete and total apathy. He had come to their ally on bended knee to ask for sanctuary and this was the reception they had received. The survivors of Smaug's attack were forced to remain on the outskirts of Mirkwood while Thorin and two Dwarves of his choosing were allowed to meet with the king. Due to his grandfather's illness and injuries Thrain had sustained during the attack, Thorin had chosen Balin and Dwalin to accompany him._

_"The mountain was taken." Dwalin spat. "You saw with your own eyes and did nothing!"_

_Turing his piercing gaze on the large dwarf Thranduil spoke flatly. "I would not for all the wealth of your kingdom endanger my people against a dragon. You may as well have asked me to murder them myself. However," He added, "If you come baring the gems that were promised, I may be agreeable to allowing food and blankets to be distributed among those who follow you."_

_Balin spoke up, "I fear your majesty that those gems currently lie beneath the dragon."_

_"Then we have nothing to discuss." Thranduil waved them away._

_Becoming enraged Thorin demanded. "Nothing to discuss?! We come to you homeless, sick and starving! Is this how you would treat your friends? Allies? What that Lithôniel could-"_

_"Do not speak of my niece!" The king hissed rising from his throne and descending the narrow stairs. "Your grandfather forged this path with his greed and falsity. I warned him of the ruin that befalls those who alienate their alliances. You would do well to not follow in his footsteps. So hear me now Thorin son of Thrain, my niece is not for you. I would not have her living as a fugitive, wondering the wilds. What can you now offer her when you cannot even provide for your own people?"_

_"She is to be my wife! It is her-"_

_"Choice?" Thranduil cut the prince off. "She has already made it." With that he removed an item from his robe and shoved it at Thorin with impatience._

_Snatching the item Thorin gasped at seeing the Evenstar pendant he had created for his One. "How came you by this?!"_

_"Lithôniel gave it to me. Just before I sent her away for her own protection from the dragon you brought down upon this part of the world. She asked me to tell you she releases you from all vows and ties. You are free to find another."_

_"You lie." Dwalin bristled. "Why would she not say so herself?"_

_Sounding bored once more Thranduil returned to his throne. "She did not wish to cause any further pain by being present."_

_"Nonsense. Let her speak for herself where is the princess?" Balin questioned._

_"It is as I said. She is not here."_

_"Menu shirumund! Why you pointy eared-"_

_"Dwalin. Enough." Thorin barked. Surprised the brothers looked to the prince but Thorin's gaze was locked on the necklace in his hand. The one Lithôniel had sworn to never remove. Without another word he turned to go, not bothering to look back to insure the others followed._

_Giving one last glare to the King lounging on his throne Balin and Dwalin quickly followed. On their way out Thorin was roughly jostled by one of the Palace Guards passing by, the Elf nearly knocking him to the ground._

_"Watch your step." Dwalin snarled. "You have just accosted The Prince of Erebor."_

_"Apologies." The Ellon smirked clearly not at all sorry._

_Recognizing the perpetrator Balin spoke, "I am certain young Melcindómien meant no harm. Come brother, we must not tarry."_

_Giving a disgruntled grunt Dwalin stomped off after Thorin. Balin gave a curt nod and disapproving frown before following as well. None of the Dwarves noticed a small purple stone the Elf had clenched in his fist._

"Thorin?"

Awaking with a jolt at a loud knock and his name being called Thorin began to scramble trying to get the items still scattered around where they had been left when he had fallen asleep.

"Thorin?" Dis called again. "Is everything alright?"

Still fumbling he didn't answer so she demanded "Open this door right now or I will break it down."

Knowing she would make good on her threat he let out a defeated sigh and unlocked and opened the door. Pushing her way past him Dis swept into the room and snapped, "What could you possibly be doing in here, I've been call-" Spotting the box half-hazardly closed upon the bed she sighed "Thorin, it’s been ten years."

"And how many years has it been since your husband died?!" He snapped. At seeing the tears welling up in her eyes he quickly apologized and gathered her into his arms for a reassuring embrace. "Dis, forgive me. I should never have said that."

Hugging him back she replied, "It’s all right Thorin. But this isn't good for you. Shutting yourself up with the memories."

"Your right." He conceded letting her go and picking up the box in his hands. "I will...get rid of it."

"If that is what you want." Dis nodded giving him a small smile and placing a hand on his arm.

"It is what's best."

Nodding once more Dis left to awaken her children leaving Thorin alone. As the door closed once more he took a step towards the fireplace where the dying embers awaited to be brought back to life and to destroy the box and its contains. Slowly Thorin leaned down and stroked the fire, but as he picked up the box from where he had placed it...something inside him just couldn't do it. He couldn't let it go. So with a tortured groan he clasped the metal container to his chest and rose to place it back in the drawer's false bottom. After all, it would still be there tomorrow.

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	8. One Step Closer

I own nothing.

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As if being chased for miles by an Orc pack hadn't bad enough, Thorin now was now on the outskirts of one of the many places he wanted to be the least. Silently he fumed as Gandalf introduced the company to the Valley of Imaldris. Bilbo, not to mention his nephews looked awestruck at the valley below. Quickly Thorin vented his frustration and suspicions at Gandalf for purposely leading them here, the home of their enemies. Gandalf however was quick to rebuke him claiming that the only ill will to be found was his own and that only the Elves could answer questions they desperately needed answers to.

Knowing they had no choice, Thorin reluctantly conceded. Despite the Wizard's assurances Thorin could not help the feeling of foreboding in his stomach. He would soon be walking into the family home of his One, whom he had not seen in sixty years. A desperation clawed at his insides hoping, yet dreading she was here so that they may reach some sort of reconciliation or closure.

"If we is to be successful," Gandalf looked at him poignantly, "This will need to be handled with tact, and respect, and no small degree of charm. Which is why you will leave the talking to me."

Thorin ground his teeth in anger still feeling as though the wizard had tricked them into coming this way and ending up where Gandalf had been badgering him to go all along. As the company descended the narrow rocky trail, more of the Elvish village could be seen in bits and pieces through the trees.

It was everything he had once been told about and more. Buildings seemed to grow in harmony from the surrounding trees, and open spacious rooms and courtyards made the most of the surrounding scenery.

Finally they made their way to the bottom of the valley where they filed into a large courtyard, a male Elf hurriedly descending the stone staircase to meet them.

"Mithrandir" The Elf greeted.

"Ah Lindir." Gandalf smiled as they shared the customary Elvish greeting of placing the right hand over their hearts.

As he watched the pair convers Thorin sized up the Elf who had once tried to court his One. From the first moment he decided the Steward was too serious and lacking in personality. No wonder she had denied his suit.

"My Lord Elrond is not here." Lindir informed Gandalf, but nearly as soon as the words were uttered horn blasts pierced the air and the clattering of hooves was heard.

On edge and suspicious Thorin called for them to assume attack formation, Bilbo and young Ori being pushed into the center of the circle of Dwarves ready to do battle. The approaching Elves though spared them only curious glances as they circled around the company before heading off in another direction, probably the stables.

The Dwarves watched with open hostility as Gandalf and the dark haired Elf who rode at the head of the company of Elves conversed. Thorin, due to un-use of the language was only able to pick up snippets of what was said. He picked up the word for Orc easily enough and when Gandalf sheepishly admitted to the pack that was slain being after them, Thorin quickly suspected that whatever hospitality or aid the wizard was expecting would no longer be offered. Stepping forward he prepared to exchange harsh words and accusations with the Lord of Rivendell.

However after a brief moment of looking him over, Elrond stepped closer to Thorin and said, "Welcome Thorin, son of Thrain."

Feeling an irrational anger begin to grow inside himself at the Elf Thorin replied, "I do not believe we have met."

"You have your Grandfather's baring." Elrond stated simply. "I knew Thror when he ruled under the mountain."

"Indeed?" Thorin bit back. "He made no mention of you."

For a long moment the two stared at each other. Though Elrond's face held the hints of slight amusement at the thinly veiled impoliteness he narrowed his eyes and a spark of anger flashed in them. In the heavy silence a question rang loudly between them. _What of my niece? What of Lithôniel?_ , Thorin could almost hear the Elvish Lord ask.

But instead he spoke in his own tongue offering them food and a place to stay the night. Thorin's cousin Gloin, not understanding demanded to know what he had said. Upon Gandalf's translation the company eagerly followed Lindir and other attendants who had appeared up the stairs and into the rooms beyond.

Upon being shown to one of the many guest bedrooms in "The Last Homely House East of the Sea", Thorin took a moment to take in his surroundings. The large luxurious bed seemed to grow from the wall itself, the four columns shaped like trees were even sprouting leaves in the early summer sun. The walls themselves were painted in a panoramic scene of the ocean with a silver ship sailing into a brilliant sunset. From the giant open archways a powerful waterfall gushed down mere feet from the balcony, permeating the room with the soothing sound. For a long moment Thorin allowed himself to wonder what it might have been like for his One to live and grow up here.

After stripping out of his travel worn cloths he gratefully sank into a large tub full of warm water. A bottle of bath oil smelling of almonds and cedar was sitting upon a small table beside the tub along with large fluffy white towels and a sponge. Upon scrubbing the dirt and grime from their travels he reluctantly emerged from the bath to redress. But as he made to pull them on he realized his garments were washed, dried and neatly folded upon his bed. Confused, if not a little impressed at the speed and skill of Elvish cleaning and mending, he re-donned his cloths and exited the room.

Entering the hallway he stopped at the door next to his, knocking he quickly entered expecting to find Fili and possibly Kili within. But within the first moments of silence he knew his nephews were not there. Feeling a knawing panic rise in his throat Thorin quickly dashed back out into the hallway calling "Balin! Dwalin!"

"They're not here."

Turning Thorin immediately spied Bilbo coming out of his own room from down the hall.

Confused Thorin walked over to the Hobbit and questioned harshly, "What do you mean they're not here?"

Sheepishly Bilbo wrung his hands and explained, "From Dwalin's room he could see a large fountain in the courtyard below. He thought it be funny to bathe in it and 'Give the pointy eared lasses a show' as it were. I tried to talk him out of it but everyone else thought it be a great laugh and they all went with him." By the end of it Bilbo was clearly distressed at the audacity of bad manners and disregard of the hospitality they were being shown.

"Well at least they are all together. And Balin should keep them out of the worst of trouble." Thorin mused chuckling slightly.

Bilbo let out a huff yet nodded with understanding. "If it's all the same to you, I think I'll wonder around a bit. See what there is to see."

"Very well, perhaps you could work on your burgling skills as well. Your last attempt cost us our ponies not to mention nearly our lives as well."

Frowning at being reminded of the three trolls they had encountered a day before Bilbo nodded once more before wondering off wherever his feet would lead him.

Thorin, for his own part wished to speak with Gandalf before having to endure dinner with their host and the other Elves who lived in the valley. However he had no idea where the Wizard's room was located. And so he wondered down one hallway then another searching for Gandalf or any clue as to where he might be. After a half hour of searching Thorin became more and more annoyed, not only with Gandalf; who never seemed to be around when needed; but also the seemingly endless and confusing layout of Elvish architecture.

Spotting a large wooden door that seemed like it would lead to outside of the building, Thorin pulled the heavy door and stepped through.

But he soon discovered he was not outside but in a large bedroom, however this space seemed different from all the other rooms that the Dwarves had been given. The room had been lived in, there were personal items upon shelves and a large wooden desk. And yet the air seemed devoid of life, that the occupant of this place had long since left but all the artifacts and belongings were as they had been when the event occurred, as if the energy within the room was waiting with baited breath for their return.

As his eyes took in the room Thorin felt his throat constrict and eyes begin to prickle with oncoming tears as he realized whose room this was. The large bed was flanked on all four corners with impressive columns of Ash trees, and the balcony beyond the room overlooked a breathtaking view of the Misty Mountains. But the tell-tale sign was the walls. A large meadow of wildflowers every color of the rainbow, immortalized in paint bloomed upon their surfaces. Gingerly he reached out a hand to stoke a painted petal, his heart full to bursting and twisting in agony. He knew this scene, had seen it for years from atop Erebor's lookout terrace, and it had been Lithôniel's favorite place in the Dwarven kingdom.

Reverently he stepped closer to the bed and cradled one of the many pillows to his chest, burying his nose in the fine linen, hoping in vain to catch even a hint of her scent.

Sensing someone approaching, he quickly replaced the pillow and strode towards the exit hoping to slip away unnoticed. His prayers were unanswered though and as soon as he reached for the door handle the wooden barrier swung open and a young female Elf stopped short at seeing him.

"Good afternoon." Thorin blurted out, feeling very foolish and on edge.

"And you as well Master Dwarf." The Elleth replied uncertainly, clutching the cleaning supplies in her hands. "While my Lord Elrond has opened his home to your company I do not believe such hospitality pertains to his niece's bedroom."

Feeling the hand of misery around his heart clench and twist Thorin nodded before clearing his throat. "I am certain it does not. However I have lost my way and stumbled upon this place by accident."

Nodding slowly with obvious suspicion the Elf replied, "Of course. If you turn left once exiting the room continue on down the hallway to the end. You will find a large open archway, beyond that is a courtyard garden. Walk down the staircase at the far side and you shall find yourself mere steps from the outside Dining Hall where dinner shall be served."

"Thank you." Thorin answered shortly giving her a slight bow. Before he turned to leave though he asked, "The scenery on the wall is very beautiful. Who painted it?"

"My Lady Lithôniel. She painted it from memory after visiting Erebor many years ago. She fell in love with the Prince you know. I can't remember his name, it was before I was born. Lord Elrond misses her terribly though. He hasn't seen her since King Thranduil called her back to The Greenwood after she was sent here when the dragon attacked."

Dazed at the revelation Thorin wordlessly wondered away from the room and mindlessly followed the path that the Serving Elleth had directed him down. When he reached the Dining Hall he was slightly relived that he wasn't the first to arrive. Many of the Company had already sat themselves at the long tables set out and were eagerly waiting the meal that was to be served. Once he was spotted by Lindir the Steward directed him to a smaller round table set upon a dais slightly away from the other tables.

"My Lord Elrond and Mithrandir shall be joining you shortly." He assured.

Nodding Thorin sat and was glad for the moments alone to collect his swirling thoughts. Here he was, in Rivendell, the place where his One grew up. Despite never being here at the same time as she, Thorin could feel her presence echo from every tree, every building. She had loved this place, and in return the land had loved her as well. The one thing that continued to play at his mind was the painting within her room. Such a work of art had to of taken time, and a lot of love and patience to achieve the level of detail and accuracy that had been displayed. The fact caused him to wonder, not for the first time, why she had broken off their engagement and had never spoken to him again.

His musings were cut short though as Gandalf and Elrond made their way to the table and sat down. Dinner started off pleasantly enough as the Wizard and Elf reminisced and shared news of current business. But then Gandalf mentioned the swords found in the Troll hoard and things went down-hill from there. At least in Thorin's mind. The only upside was when Bofur stood on the Elves ornate table and sang a riotous Dwarven song, giving the Elves a taste of Dwarvish hospitality.

Shortly after Bofur's performance dinner ran down and the Company dispersed back to their rooms, but they did not stay there very long. With very little ceremony, the Dwarves drug a few mattresses from the rooms into the large Common Room within the Guest quarters. Bilbo for his part look on horrified as they broke apart a small end table to be used as kindling to cook sausages and other trail rations, Dwalin and Ori were still bemoaning the absence of meat during the evening meal. The Hobbit was likely currently considering himself lucky that all the Dwarves had done to his home was muddy the carpets and eat his food.

After assuring himself that the company was mostly settled in for the night Thorin retrieved his pipe and made his way up the staircase leading off of the Guest Wing that lead up to a large suit that apparently Gandalf often used when he was within Rivendell. Seeking solitude to reflect on all that had happened the last few hours Thorin was slightly annoyed to find Bilbo already making his way up the staircase.

Upon hearing Thorin's footsteps the Hobbit turned and said, "It's all so much to take in. This place… I never thought I would visit Bree let alone Rivendell. You know as a child I loved to play within the woods surrounding the Shire searching for Elves, and now here I am, me Bilbo Baggins consorting with Lord Elrond himself." He chuckled for a moment, then looking to Thorin he quickly remembered the Dwarf's thoughts on Elves. So Bilbo cleared his throat and added, "I think it was wise to come here Thorin. Despite the fact you have no love of Elves."

Smiling mirthlessly Thorin mused, "Indeed, I have little love for the Elves. But there is one thing I find I have in common with them. A love of the stars. Perhaps that is why…" Thorin trailed off, bewildered at himself for nearly sharing such personal information with this Halfling. Someone he barely knew and hardly often liked.

But if Bilbo had noticed Thorin's near admission he chose to let it be for he replied, "But you're a Dwarf. I don't imagine that there's very much starlight shining into a mountain."

"No there is not." Thorin chuckled slightly. "But I was not born in the normal way of Dwarven Princes. You see, when my Mother carried me within her she was restless and prone to wondering. It was a very different state from when she had been pregnant with my elder sister or even my younger brother. With them she was content to stay close to the hearth and prepare for the oncoming of new life." Striking a match Thorin lit his pipe. "One such night her wonderings lead her down to a cave deep within the mountain to the edge of an underground lake. It was here that I was brought into the world. My mother delivered me by herself deep beneath our kingdom and though it seems impossible, I remember looking up to the ceiling of that cave and seeing thousands of fireflies illuminating the cavern. Even today when look at the stars there is a vastness to it that could never be found beneath the mountain."

Bilbo scratched the back of his head and wrinkled his brow in contemplation. He opened his mouth to speak but the sound of approaching voices interrupted him.

"Of course I was going to tell you I was waiting for this very chance."

The pair turned and spotted Gandalf and Elrond walking together in a heated discussion. Thorin was still at war with himself for having shown the Elvish Lord his grandfather's map. Despite now having information needed in order to enter Erebor, the look Elrond had given him was one of disapproval and harsh judgment. It was obvious he did not understand the gravity of what reclaiming their homeland could mean, but Thorin would fight him and any others who stood in the way of their quest to his last breath.

The Wizard and Elf bickered light old women for a few moments before Elrond questioned, "Have you forgotten? A strain of madness runs in that family. His grandfather lost his mind, his father succumbing to the same sickness. Can you swear that Thorin Oakenshield will not also fall?" His voice became quiet and pained as he murmured, "When I think of how I so easily blessed-"

"Thorin is not his grandfather." Gandalf cut in.

Seeking to make a point Elrond replied, "Gandalf these decisions do not rest with us alone. It is not up to you and me to redraw the map of Middle Earth."

The rest of their conversation drifted away as they moved out of hearing, but for Thorin Elrond's words rang in his ears like a mighty forge hammer. No matter how many times he had echoed Gandalf's sentiment himself, the fear of madness had plagued Thorin. By Mahal countless thought him mad already for attempting this quest. But he would silence the nay-sayers and make them rue the day they doubted when he won back Erebor. Yes, he would win back their homeland, win back the respect the Line of Durin deserved, and by the grace of the Valar, win back his One.

* * *

Purposeful steps echoed off the walls and stone floors of the grand hallway. A soldier snapped to attention as the figure approached but they were shown no recognition. Stopping at an ornate, silver painted door the footsteps paused a long moment before opening the door and entering the room beyond.

"How does she fare today?" Thranduil asked from the doorway looking to his niece seated near the window, sunlight lazily drifting in to illuminate her gaunt figure.

"As well as most days my Lord." Verya responded, a resigned sadness to her soft voice as she glanced up from the linens she was folding.

From her seat Lithôniel began to sway in the chair ever so slightly and so softly did she begin to sing that even Elvish hearing could have missed it.

_"Sing me a song of a gwenn that is gone_

_Say, could that lass be I?_

_Merry of soul she sailed on a day_

_Over the sea to Aman"_

As she continued though, her voice steadily grew in strength and volume, the sound becoming haunting and deep.

_"Billow and breeze, islands and seas_

_Mountains of rain and sun_

_All that was good, all that was fair_

_All that was me is gone"_

The pair stopped and stared at the Princess. But Lithôniel seemed to not even realize they were there. Her empty violet eyes gazed out the window at nothing, a breeze teasing the ends of her hair.

"Lirimaer." Thranduil kneeled quickly before her, taking her hands in his. "Lithôniel my lovely one, have you come back to me?"

But no recognition shown in her face and she didn't even turn her head to acknowledge his presence. The king allowed himself a defeated sigh before standing and releasing her hands. Flatly he commanded, "Make sure that she remains comfortable. The Healing Master shall come with the draught later this morning as usual."

"Yes my Lord." Verya bowed, but the King was gone before she straightened once more. Turning back to the laundry she spared a glance at her mistress willing bitter tears not to fall.

From her seat by the window Lithôniel silently congratulated herself on the pain shared by her Lady in Waiting and Uncle. She knew it was wrong to put them through such deceit but she found little reason to care. The drought that was forced into her every morning made her head foggy and sluggish. Her body was slow to respond and her limbs always felt like they weighted more than an Oliphaunt. But in the brief hours when her mind began to clear she was able to properly think, and feel, and hate. She felt a burning hatred for her Uncle and any others she suspected of betrayal.

If she were able she would spit the Healers potion back in his face, but the pain that would eventually come was soul searing deep. So she would stay and wait for her mind to clear, for those precious few moments to feel, and remember. No matter how much she would try and focus on the distain she felt her mind would always turn to Thorin. She missed him more than anything, more than the stars. With every free breath she wished time with him. Just a moment to tell him she loved him, more now than ever and that she would give anything to be in his arms again. But she knew such wishing was childish, and her hope had faded long ago.

The door to her room opened once more and The Master Healer entered carrying a number of vials along with a flask and a small silver cup. "My Lady it is once more time to take your drought."

Inwardly Lithôniel sighed and resigned herself to this fate. But then a small plant growing upon her windowsill caught her eye. Five blue petals with yellow centers gazed up at her almost with longing. Feeling her heart fill with joy and hope for the first time in years, she slowly reached out and stroked the tiny flower and wondered how the spring bloom thrived in the early autumn climate. She knew the Men of Dale had called them forget-me-not's and the color matched the eyes of her love so well she would be foolish and blind not to take it as a sign. Plucking the flower she deftly hid it in the folds of her sleeve as the Healer turned from his preparations to hand her the cup.

Demurely she took the offering and sipped a mouthful down. But inwardly she formed a plan and smiled.

_He was coming for her._

* * *

"Is there no end to this accursed forest?!" Thorin bellowed, his voice echoing yet muted to his own ears. His mind was addled and foggy. It reminded him of a time when he and Dwalin had smoked a strange sort of pipe weed acquired from a trader who claimed it came from Far Harad. Dazed he led his company through the maze of trees, desperate to reach the other side. The air was thick, the stench of decay making it hard to breath and the lack of oxygen made his head swim causing illusions to dance upon the edges of his vision and phantom whispers to fill his ears.

Days later they still had not reached the end of Mirkwood Forest and supplies were running dangerously low. Nearly everyone in the Company's mood was sour and on edge, the only one who seemed to still be able to think clearly was Bilbo. Despite how Thorin had grown to respect and value the Hobbit's counsel and company, the last shred of his sanity hung on leading them through this traitorous terrain, and so he had blindly led them off the safety of the path. By the time Thorin was willing to admit they were lost there was no shred of hope of returning to the proper course.

When Bilbo had volunteered to scale a tree hoping to find their way once more, most of his companions were too busy arguing amongst themselves to notice him. Thorin himself barely registered his exit, his warrior instinct instead centering on an unknown threat hanging about the outside of their awareness.

The attack came swiftly, and in their muddled state of mind the Dwarves; many of them battle hardened warriors; didn't stand a chance. One moment they were upon the forest floor the next they were hanging upside down in the tallest of Mirkwood's trees.

Groggily Thorin was slowly becoming aware of the shrieks and squeals of the spiders around him, but he had little time to contemplate their cause as he suddenly plunged headfirst towards the ground bellow. Luckily the spiders hadn't had the sense to confiscate his sword, though he had somehow lost the bow and arrows Beorn had given him along their journey. Tearing through the sticky silk around around him he called, "Where's Bilbo?"

He barely registered Bilbo's answer before he and the other Dwarves retreated from the advancing spiders, the giant arachnids having realized their dinner was currently trying to escape. The attack came from all sides as they ran through the trees, but like him, Thorin soon realized nearly all had been left with their weapons intact so they at least had a fighting chance. Together they slashed and hacked at the eight legged freaks who stood in their way, but Thorin continued to keep and eye out for Bilbo hoping he would catch up to them soon yet wanting the inexperienced Halfling to remain safe and out of harms way.

Suddenly though they had bigger problems and Elves descended upon them, slaughtering the remaining foes. Thorin stopped short suddenly, an arrow drawn to full string was aimed between his eyes. The intense blue eyes of the Elf that threatened him burned with hatred.

"Don't think I won't kill you Dwarf. It would be my pleasure."

* * *

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Ahhh! One more chapter down :) Still reeling from BOTFA feels but fear not hopefully another update will follow soon


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